


I promise to see you

by baylisself



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU - No Time Skip - Torture, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Grief/Mourning, Happy ending I promise. Eventually, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Hatred, no beta we die like men, sylvix - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-10-29 03:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20789813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baylisself/pseuds/baylisself
Summary: "I see you Sylvain."Childhood words form a promise that will bind the two together forever.  There is love there, but they cannot express it, until Felix is brutally struck down and Sylvain realizes he is actually an idiot.  But Felix isn't about to break his promise.





	1. The Crybaby

**Author's Note:**

> First fan-fic ever. Totally obsessed with FE:3H and especially Sylvix. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, I couldn’t stop writing.  
Basically a retelling of Felix’s and Sylvains’ childhoods and lives in Garreg Mach, with an eventual romance. Happy ending, but it's a long road to get there - please bear with me. Tons of angst and grief and feelings. The time-skip didn’t really work with my plans, so imagine it’s like a one month skip instead, k? Also, I throw in a random OC and Felix is taken prisoner/tortured and Sylvain totally thinks he's dead.  
Trigger warning: there is some torture (not graphic), child abuse (slap & emotional), PTSD
> 
> Would love any and all comments/kudos!

_\--POV: Glenn Fraldarius--_

Glenn looked down at Felix, who was nervously bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation. “What are you so excited about?” Glenn smirked, his hands hidden behind his back. "Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I got you a present, dummy."

“Come onnnn Glenn, please give it to me!” Felix demanded with a whine and a stomp of his little foot.

How cute, Glenn thought with a smile. Sighing dramatically, he brought the hidden gift from behind his back. “Alright, alright. Here you go. Happy birthday Felix.” Felix squealed with delight and grabbed the package. It was carefully wrapped in white cloth and tied with a dark blue and silver ribbon. But Glenn might as well have wrapped it in a burlap sack, because Felix was ripping open the package with unbridled excitement. He was only five years old today, so of course he didn't have the patience to proceed delicately. Glenn chuffed out a laugh and ruffled his hand in Felix's hair. "Are you sure you can't open it any faster?" he teased.

Felix gasped as he pulled the wooden sword out. It was a sturdy oak blade, carved with scrollwork and leaves on the hilt, and polished to a high shine. Felix held it carefully, tenderly, his eyes as wide as saucers. Glenn was reminded of how Ingrid had held the toy knight he had gifted her, pressing it tightly against her heart, as though it might suddenly sprout wings and fly away.

The sword was much longer and heavier than the tiny toy dagger that was ever-present at Felix's side. Glenn couldn't even remember where that dagger had come from, it seemed that it had always been there. It couldn't really even be called a dagger anymore, the dull edges had been worn away from too much play - it was basically just a blunt stick at this point.

"So... so cool Glenn. It’s so cool!" Felix whispered, and Glenn’s smile widened. "Does this mean....?" he asked, his eyes shining and never leaving the blade.

"That's right! You're amazing big brother has finally convinced Dad that you're ready to start training. Real training.” Glenn patted his brother on the shoulder. Glenn stopped his teasing for a moment, his voice growing more serious. "Really Felix, everyone has seen how hard you've been working and helping out. Of course you’ll have to work even harder now." Felix nodded fervently, and Glenn felt brotherly pride blossom in his chest. Glenn had a sharp tongue, but he really loved his little brother.

As children of Rodrigue Fraldarius, the Shield of Faerghus, Glenn and Felix had been instructed as noble children basically from birth. Glenn had it worse, as he was the firstborn and intended heir, but Felix certainly wasn't let off easily. Their days were full of lessons - academics, politics, economics, etiquette, dancing, music, art, and so on. There were scheduled meetings with other noble children (future Lords and knights and even King), although these were usually pretty enjoyable. But Glenn had seen Felix fidgeting impatiently through his lessons, much as Glenn himself had done at that age. Waiting for his daily free time... time for an activity of his choice. And every day, that time was spent in the training yards, just the same as Glenn.

Everyone in the Fraldarius territory was taught fighting from an early age - it was a necessity in these rough lands, and considered a great honor to protect the Kingdom. However, formal training with an actual weapon didn't usually start until 8 years of age. Instead, Felix had mirrored the stances and movements as best he could, watching from the shadows in the hallways, his tiny wooden dagger flashing dangerously. He offered to help the soldiers with any chore available- cleaning, polishing weapons, anything. His desire to fight and train was so intense, it was practically a visible aura around the boy.

Glenn had begged his father for months to let Felix start earlier than 8 - he knew how much it meant to his little brother. And after receiving positive feedback from the guards posted in the yard, Rodrigue had finally relented.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" Felix cried, hugging Glenn as tightly as he could with one arm, his other still holding the practice sword. "You are the best brother ever, I'm going to train so hard. Maybe I'll even beat you!" he exclaimed, throwing his tiny fist into the air.

Glenn laughed, "Hah, I'll believe it when I see it. I won't go easy on you, you know."

"Spar with me right now, I'll show you what I’ve got!" Felix was already running to the door as Glenn followed behind him, shaking his head and smirking.

The battle was over quickly, the weight of the new blade still far too much for young Felix's spindly arms. And shadow fighting was much different than real fighting. Of course Glenn beat him soundly. Birthday or not, he wouldn't let Felix win a pity battle. Felix sniffed back tears as he picked the wooden sword from the ground. "You're so strong Glenn," he whined pitifully.

"Of course I am. You will be too, you just need to train a lot. You’re not completely lacking talent, after all. Besides, I have to be strong. They won’t let me be a knight if I can’t protect everyone." Felix was biting his lip and staring at the ground. Glenn ruffled his hair again. "Hey, I’ll even protect you, you little weakling," Glenn teased.

Felix looked up at that and cried defiantly, "I can protect myself!" and turned to run off. It would have been a much more impressive display if he wasn't struggling to carry his new sword as he ran. He stumbled on the pathway and Glenn laughed.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

"It's not fair, I tried so hard!" Felix cried, as Sylvain hugged him and patted his mop of short, messy hair. The black locks were sticking up unevenly, as though Felix himself had chopped them off with a dull blade.

"Shh, shh, it's ok," Sylvain cooed gently. Felix looked up, his face streaked with tears and snot, his amber eyes clouded with sadness, and Sylvain pulled him close again. "You'll get stronger, we can work on it together." Sylvain said, trying to comfort Felix.

Sylvain was visiting the Fraldarius house for the week to celebrate Felix’s birthday, and their good friends Ingrid and Dimitri were due to arrive tomorrow. Sylvain loved these times spent playing care-free with his friends. They ran through the fields, looking for wild strawberries or apple trees to climb. They played mock battles with sticks as weapons (Ingrid always insisted on being a knight and protecting Dimitri, and Dimitri was too bashful to argue). They jumped over the small creek in the woods again and again, until one of them fell in, soaking wet and sputtering. And then they would lay in the field under the large willow tree, eating pastries, swatting flies, and kicking their feet in the dirt. They chatted about nothing and laughed at nothing, as only young close friends can.

In comparison, Sylvain’s own home was so... quiet. And stuffy. And difficult. He felt as though everyone was watching him, judging his every move. Sylvain remembered clearly the day his crest had been discovered. His parents' faces were glowing with happiness as they gushed over him. And yet when Sylvain had turned to his brother, Miklan, he had received a dark, almost frightening glare. Everything had changed that day, and through no action of Sylvain's. His existence alone, and the existence of his crest, was the only thing that mattered.

His parents and the house staff began to treat Sylvain as though he was some kind of precious jewel; they coddled and fawned over him. Sylvain noticed that people's eyes were so strange when they looked at him - slightly unfocused, as though they were looking past him, through him, staring at something hazy in the distance. Their words dripped out, like a sickly sweet honey, twisted in meaning, pleasant faces cemented, never wavering. Sylvain hated it.

Meanwhile Miklan had gone too far in the other direction. He constantly glowered at him and his cruel words bit into Sylvain whenever they were alone. He would hurt Sylvain when he thought he could get away with it, and sometimes even when he couldn’t. Sylvain wished he could give his crest to Miklan. Would Miklan stop hating him then?

But Felix.... ah, Felix. Felix never minced words with him, always blunt and honest to a fault. Felix, who possessed a crest even more powerful than Sylvain's, never brought it up. Felix couldn't have cared less about the whole matter. All he wanted was to play, and roam free, and fight. Sylvain was two years older than Felix, and Felix was just a little kid at five years old. But still, Sylvain preferred his company to anyone else. Felix was his best friend.

"So let me see your new sword." Sylvain prompted Felix, trying to get the boy's mind off his sparring loss to Glenn. Felix sniffed a few more times as he held the blade proudly up to Sylvain.

"It's not quite as big as Glenn's, but it's still big! Not a toy anymore. And Dad said I could start training now!" Felix started gushing happily, his previous sadness forgotten in the joyous glow of swordsmanship.

Sylvain smiled as Felix continued his chatter. Felix often came to him like this, tears streaming down his face. Felix's emotions were too strong for his small body, often overflowing into explosive outbursts. But he was also easily comforted, and Slyvain didn't mind. He much preferred Felix's honest explosions to his own family's calm false control. Sylvain wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he actually cherished these moments. Felix could have gone to anyone for comfort, but he always picked Sylvain. Sylvain felt warm inside. He was wanted, needed even. He imagined this was what a parent or brother's love would feel like.


	2. A Gautier Heir

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain was eight the first time his father had introduced him to a girl. “She’s a lovely lady from a very prominent family,” his father had said, ushering the two into a drawing room with some tea and pastries, and shutting the door. The girl was thirteen, and kept talking about Kingdom fashion and tea parties. Sylvain was terribly bored and couldn’t understand why he was here and what was expected of him. He swung his legs idly on the chair, as the girl continued chattering away, oblivious of Sylvains lack of interest. He wasn’t really listening anymore. Felix and Ingrid were here for a few days, and he bitterly wished he was playing with them instead of being trapped in this nightmarish room. Finally the clock chimed, and tea time was over. Sylvain had popped up from his chair in relief. The young lady left, returning in her coach to wherever she came from. Sylvain was glad to see her go.

His father pulled him aside, and escorted him into the study, closing the door firmly behind them. "So how did you and the young miss get along?" his father asked, leaning in towards him and standing a little too close for his comfort. His father’s face was plastered in a pleasant smile, a mask very familiar to Sylvain.

Sylvain shifted his feet and stared at the floor, uncomfortable with his father's intense stare. "Uhh, she was ok I guess,” he glanced up at his father’s face, but his father hadn’t reacted. Sylvain looked back down, fidgeted, and starting talking quickly, a nervous habit he had. “Pretty boring actually. Girls are so yucky anyways. Except for Ingrid, of course, but she’s practically a boy anyways, the way she acts. I'd rather go hang out with Felix anyday."

He gasped when a sudden sharp pain spread like lightning across his face. His father had slapped him! Sylvain would have stumbled backwards, but his back was already pressed tight against the door. He stared at his father, Margrave Gautier, whose face had finally lost the mask, revealing only unbridled fury. "I don't ever want to hear such words come out of your mouth again boy, do you understand?" His face was red and he was stabbing his finger into Sylvain’s chest. "You are the heir of House Gautier!" He shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth and landing on Sylvain's red cheeks.

Sylvain drew in a shaking breath and felt tears drip down his face, as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Margrave finally stepped back, a disgusted look on his face. "Don't be so pathetic Sylvain, real mean don’t cry." He turned his back to Sylvain, and paced to his desk. He breathed for a few moments and began to shuffle a pile of papers on the desk as he continued to speak, in a more calm, authoritative tone.

"You need to start considering your position and the future of our family," he said after a few moments. "It is your duty and purpose to marry and produce crest-bearing children. It was my duty as well, hence you," he waved his hand vaguely at Sylvain.

Sylvain bit the inside of his cheek, desperate to get the storm of emotions he felt under control. He wished he could cover his ears, block out these words.

"You can play with your friends for now, but understand that there are expectations" the Margrave continued. “When the time comes, arrangements will be made and you will be wed, and you will continue our family’s honorable tradition. And certainly young Fraldarius is not going to help you then."

Sylvain felt anger swelling within him at the mention of Felix. How dare he! He wanted to shout at his man, wanted to hit and scream and punch. But the Margrave wasn't done. “And if I see that playing with your friends, noble though they may be, is having a bad influence... I will make other arrangements. Your time with them will be replaced with less distracting activities.”

Sylvain’s fists relaxed and his vision grew blurry. Fear replaced his anger. No, no, no, this could not be happening. Anything but this. Several minutes of silence passed, with Sylvain shaking and gulping back his tears. He tasted iron in his mouth, and his hands were numb. Finally, he whispered "I understand Margrave, I will not let you down. May I go now?" as politely as he could. The Margrave sighed, and nodded. Sylvain fled.

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

  
Felix was getting ready for bed when Sylvain suddenly burst open the door to the stately guest room. His face was dark and his eyes were red. He almost looked as though he had been crying, Felix thought. But Sylvain had never cried in front of Felix, it was always the other way around.

Felix stood up and quickly ran to Sylvain, clutching his sleeve tentatively. "Sylvain? Are you ..."  
Sylvain snapped his eyes to Felix, fell to his knees, and burst into tears. Felix threw his hands around Sylvain as tight as they would go, fear coursing through him.

"What's wrong?," he asked. Something terrible must have happened.

He couldn't understand Sylvain's blubbered response, and he didn't know what to do. So he just rubbed Sylvain's back, like Sylvain usually did for Felix. "Hey, hey it's ok, I'm here," he said softly.

Sylvain finally managed to get the story out, in-between sobs. Felix couldn’t understand all of the details, but he understood enough. His eyes flashed with fiery anger. "That's bullshit!" he whispered, and Sylvain gasped at the swear words. He looked up and stared at Felix.

"That's bullshit!" Felix said a little louder, his confidence of the forbidden phrase growing. "There’s no way you’re here just to have kids. You are a person, you … you matter!" Felix continued.

Something inside of Sylvain seemed to burst open at those words, and he began blubbering again. "Felix.... they don't even see me Felix. No one sees me, their eyes look but they don't SEE!" he cried.

Felix tightened his grip on Sylvain's shoulders. "I see you Sylvain." he whispered firmly. Sylvain collapsed his head into Felix's shoulder again, almost knocking the younger boy over. He cried and cried, for what seemed like hours. Felix was so frightened and angry, and a little coil of hatred had been born within him, directed towards Sylvain's father. How could he do this to his son, didn't he love him? Felix's own father would never be so cruel, Felix was certain of it.

“I don’t know what to do,” Felix said softly, after a long time had passed. He wanted to make Sylvain happier, to make things better. Sylvain always managed to comfort Felix when he was upset, but how did he do it? Felix was just a kid, this was too big for him. But there was no one else. How could he help?

“Don't leave me Felix, please. Stay," Sylvain whimpered.

“Oh I’ll always be here Sylvie!” Felix said quickly. That was easy, he could do that! He always wanted to be by Sylvain’s side forever, he was his best friend! A sudden thought occurred to him. “Hey, wait a minute, why don’t WE get married?” he said with a tinge of excitement. This was the perfect plan, Felix thought proudly. “I’m a noble, and I even have a crest, so your dumb family will be happy. Then we can always be together, and play and fight and stuff!”

Sylvain peered at Felix from under his damp lashes and suddenly started giggling. “Felix! Boys can’t get married to other boys!"

“O..Oh,” Felix replied, looking crestfallen.

“Well, I mean, I guess they can, but they can’t have kids. And besides married people have to do yucky stuff together,” Sylvain said mysteriously, brushing his wet sleeves against his eyes.

What did that mean, Felix wondered. He knew adults did weird things, like kissing, and Sylvain was a lot older, two whole years, so maybe he knew more. “Oh,” he repeated again.

Sylvain sat up a little straighter. “But we could still promise to be together forever, I guess” he said softly.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Felix replied, “Ok, I promise!” Sylvain looked surprised, but happy, and so Felix was happy too. 


	3. What is this feeling?

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix always felt things strongly, and he wasn't afraid to show it. He cried and screamed and laughed a lot as a child. Always so sensitive, always overreacting. No one ever told him he should be any different.

He loved his friends, Dimitri, Ingrid, and Sylvain, fiercely. He wanted to spend every day with them, especially Sylvain. Ingrid was sometimes too bossy, and Dimitri was sometimes too careful, too much of a pushover. But Sylvain was always honest with him, and never mocked his tantrums. Their relationship was a perfect balance of push and pull, give and take, and Felix loved him.

As he grew older, his feelings began to change. After hearing Ingrid talk about Glenn with a bright glowing blush on her face, Felix realized he felt the same way about Sylvain. He had a crush. Sylvain was handsome, smart, charming, funny, good, and just… Sylvain. He was everything that Felix was not.

Felix began to find it hard to meet Sylvain’s eyes. His brightness was too hard to look at. Felix wanted desperately to be near him, but he was always talking about girls, flirting with girls, and otherwise occupied with… girls. Felix knew the reasons, and he could recognize Sylvain’s fake, masked face. But it still hurt to watch.

At 13, ALL of his friends were talking about girls, and Felix felt nothing towards them. He knew he was different, and his love for Sylvain had turned into something more, something burning, raging within. It hurt so much more deeply. He also knew that Sylvain was no longer pretending about liking girls. Sure, he still wore that fake mask much of the time, but there was also honest attraction and interest. It hurt so much. He was certain that Sylvain would never look at Felix like that.

Felix remembered very clearly a day when the two had gone to the local tavern for a quick lunch (but apparently also for Sylvain to flirt with every living creature available to mankind). Felix was frustrated, annoyed, and probably a bit jealous. But then, one of the male guests had come to the table and started chatting with Sylvain. Well more than just chatting - flirting. Felix’s eyes had gone wide, and Sylvain had recoiled from the man’s attention, looking around wildly, as though he was nervous that someone might see him talking to a guy. “Hey man, I don’t know where you got the idea I’m into guys, but Sylvain Gautier is a woman’s blessing only,” he had said loudly and sharply to the man.

Felix felt the words like a punch to his gut.

And so Felix found that he couldn’t look at Sylvain for very long. He found he couldn’t talk with him as he once could. Would Sylvain hate him if he knew the truth? Most assuredly. It would certainly end their friendship. Felix had never before tried to hide his emotions, but he damn well better learn now and learn fast, or he was certain he would lose the one person he cherished most in the world.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain was 15, and he had spent the last several years honing and perfecting his carefully crafted persona. He had shaped himself publicly into the kind of man a Gautier was expected to be. He had begun by reading books on romance - as many as he could get his hands on. He practiced smiling, smirking, and winking in the mirror in his bathroom. He practiced flirting with the scarecrow in the field, pretending it was a beautiful girl. Then he moved on to real women - young old, he wasn't picky - he just needed the practice. Anything to keep the Margrave off his back.

Sylvain had always been clever in his studies, but he found that acting dumb was more advantageous. People expected less and let their guards down more easily. He was  
able to get away with so much more. When acting the fool, he could more carefully judge people's reactions to his words and make the appropriate adjustments. Sylvain was ever watchful. Mistakes were easily brushed aside with a goofy grin and a wave of his hand.

Eventually his body responded automatically at the sight of a beautiful girl. It was so easy, and he felt pride at how skillful he had become - his wit sharpened to a deadly, but oh so sweet, weapon. This was his own type of warfare - Felix had his sword and Sylvain his charm. Of course it didn't hurt that he had grown up into a pretty handsome guy, if he did say so himself (which he did. Repeatedly). His reputation spread like wild-fire, and although the Margrave didn't seem thrilled with his son's widespread advances, he also had dropped the topic of marriage, at least for now.

Truthfully, Sylvain actually enjoyed flirting. The back and forth banter proved entertaining (vapid though it was), and he definitely found the sight of a blushing, giggling girl a huge turn-on. He was a teenage boy, and there was nothing better in the world that the sweet taste of a girl’s lips upon his. Light, fluffy words exchanged breathlessly; Lust and warmth and sweaty desire. But it had never gone further than that. Sylvain had always broken up with the girls before it had gotten too serious. This was just a meaningless game anyways.

Until tonight, that is. It was the Blue Sea Moon, high summer, and he was on his way to the Fraldarius household, where he would be spending the next month. Sylvain had stopped for a short break halfway there, and was staying at an Inn in a small village. He had met a pretty girl named Cassie earlier that day while taking in the sights. She was something else - long dark hair waving down to her curved waist, and plump pink lips, glistening.

Wait, maybe her name was Catherine. Ehh, it didn't matter really, this was just a bit of fun. She had agreed to meet him later that night for some flirting and kissing, but now she was leading him breathlessly into his own bedroom. Sylvain wasn't sure what the hell was going on. He had never gotten this far and honestly hadn't expected to. For some reason, he was suddenly feeling more nervous than excited.

"Hey baby, why don't we call it a night, huh? I wouldn't want your father to start worrying about a pretty little thing like you," he said, tilting his head into her neck and kissing her tenderly.

Carolyn (was that it? shit, he needed to pay more attention) whispered breathlessly, "Don't worry about that, he was really happy when I told him where I was going. We can have all night," she said as she pushed her lips into his, and starting unlacing the front of his shirt.

Sylvain felt blood rushing to his head, and his chest was heavy with desire at her needy touch. He was having trouble focusing on her words, his head was pounding. What had she said? Her father, what? Cassandra! That was her name, for sure.

He slid his hands along the sides of her tight dress, her body supple and willing under his hands. His hands started shaking, and he brought them up to brush through her hair. Ugh he hated this feeling in his chest. He tilted her head back from him gently and tried to focus on her face. He wanted to see her eyes, her beautiful amber eyes. But her eyes were hazy, and green, why had he thought they were anything else? She was looking past him, and smiling. She pulled him back to her lips.

The heaviness was rising higher as she led him to the bed, and she was kissing him again, and the heaviness had risen to his throat. And the pounding was deafening now, and suddenly Sylvain was going to be sick, he couldn't, he couldn't breath, she was pawing at his chest and he couldn’t breathe at all, he couldn't, he couldn't DO THIS. He pushed her backwards, a little more roughly than he had intended, and she stumbled slightly. "Hey! Be careful," she exclaimed.

Sylvain had turned his face away, one of his hands covering his face. He couldn't let her see, his carefully crafted mask was slipping. The pounding was so loud and his breathing was shallow, the room was so tight and suffocating, why was the air so thick? "I'm sorry," he managed to mumble out, "I think I ate something bad." He pulled her to his door and pushed her out, eliciting a little yipe of surprise from the girl, and he had no idea what her damned name was, it didn't matter. "S..sorry s'sorry, going to be sick," he repeated and slammed the door shut behind her.

Sylvain slumped to the ground, shaking and gasping. He held his head in his hands, trying desperately to get a breath in. Just breathe. One after another, this shouldn't be so freaking difficult. Breathing was natural and automatic right?

Time passed and at first he heard the girl knocking on his door, but it was silent now, she must have given up. Had it been minutes or hours? His face was covered with a sickly sheen of sweat. But at least he could breathe again. What was wrong with him? She had been so willing and beautiful and he had blown it. What the hell was WRONG with him?

***

Sylvain swatted lazily at a fly that kept buzzing around his face, and stifled a yawn. He was sprawled out in the corner of the training yard of the Fraldarius estate, in a small patch of shade, bored out of his mind. This was certainly not how he had planned to spend his month here. He wanted to spend everyday with Felix, but to his disappointment, Felix wanted to spend everyday at the training grounds. He knew that Glenn had been stationed as a member of the Royal Guard to protect the King, after being like the youngest knight EVER. He could see Felix’s determination to catch up to him, but this was getting ridiculous.

“Come on Felix, you trained all day yesterday, can we PLEASE go to town today? There’s sure to be tons of pretty girls there that haven’t met me yet” Sylvain begged. He needed to get back on his game, he couldn’t let that disaster at the Inn mess with his mind. He just needed a new girl, that was all.

Felix slashed apart another training dummy. “I don’t care about girls, Sylvain. I care about getting stronger. You should too," Felix finally said.

“I think you’re strong enough,” Sylvain muttered under his breath so Felix couldn’t hear him. Felix was still much shorter than Sylvain, but he was definitely not a little kid anymore. His body had filled out like a typical teenager, but was slender and full of wiry muscle (probably from spending every freaking waking hour training). Sylvain was pretty sure that Felix could kick his ass.

"Ok, how about we go fishing in the creek? You used to love that, right? Just a short break?” Sylvain used his most charming voice, but Felix did not respond. “After all, you'll get stronger  
faster if you give your body time to rest,” Sylvain said, trying a different approach.

Felix glanced at Sylvain. Then he rolled his eyes and looked away.

Sylvain felt a small ball of worry grow inside of him. There seemed to be a distance growing between them and it scared Sylvain. Please Felix, he thought, don’t leave me behind. Remember our promise.

“Fine,” Felix snapped, as though he could read Sylvain’s mind. He turned his head to Sylvain again and their eyes met briefly. Felix smiled, just a little, before looking away. Oh thank the Goddess, he’s still there, thought Sylvain, relief flooding through him. “But only if you train with me first,” Felix continued and Sylvain let out a loud groan of complaint.

“20 minutes,” Sylvain finally offered, walking over to the training lances.

“3 hours,” Felix countered.

“What the fuck Felix, what kind of compromise is that? 3 hours? I’ll be dead! 45 minutes, that’s my final offer, take it or leave it,” Sylvain started stretching out his tight leg muscles.

“Leave it,” Felix said, and began swinging again.

“Come onnnn, Feeelllixxx….” Sylvain whined.

“1 hour then,” Felix said, and Sylvain could see him grinning.

“Fine, one hour. And one hour only. If we are in the middle of a match at one hour, I swear to the Goddess, we are stopping mid-battle, understand?” Sylvain relented.

Felix nodded, his smile now much wider.

After 30 minutes of getting the crap beaten out of him, Sylvain held up a hand. “Hold up Fe, I need a break,” he gasped.

Felix sighed and turned back to the training dummy, swinging with vigor. “If you trained more, you wouldn’t need to stop,” he said.

“Sorry, I’m not a freaking monster like some people,” Sylvain muttered, as he collapsed on the ground.

Sylvain watched Felix practice for a few more minutes. The teen seemed to have no limit to his stamina, Sylvain thought. Sweat was dripping down the back of his neck, and collarbone. Even his tightly wound bun of hair (so much longer than last time Sylvain had seen him!) was starting to come undone, loose strands stuck to the sweat and framed his face.

Felix suddenly stopped and dropped his sword. He reached up and pulled down his hair, his long locks cascading over his shoulders, accentuating his slender build. He shook his head in annoyance, and the hair loosely whipped around him, like some kind of weirdly beautiful tornado.

Sylvain gasped, feeling every muscle in his body suddenly tighten,. “Wh..what are you doing?” he asked, his mouth gaping open in shock.

Felix ran his fingers through his hair and pushed the sweaty hair up, back into a tight bun. “Just tying my dumb hair up, it keeps falling down. I really should get it chopped again. Why?” he asked, glancing up at Sylvain.

Sylvain was hunched on the ground, looking away. “Don’t.” He said.

“Don’t what?” Felix asked.

Sylvain suddenly jumped up. “Sorry Fe, I think I need a breather, see you later.” he shouted as he ran away, towards his room, leaving Felix staring after him, slack-jawed in confusion.

Sylvain slammed the door to his room behind him and slid to the ground. SHIT SHIT SHIT. FUCK!


	4. The Promise

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Sylvain was visiting for an entire month this summer, and something had gone wrong. Felix didn't know what it was or how to fix it. Sylvain at first seemed very excited to spend time with Felix, much to Felix's delight. Unfortunately, he wanted to drag Felix along while he flirted with girls, which Felix definitely did not want to witness. So Felix pulled back, turned away. He spent even more time in the training yard, trying to numb himself with exhaustion.

Then Sylvain had run away from him, mid-training session, with some lame excuse, suddenly and unexpectedly. Felix had thought again and again about those moments, but he couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. Had he looked at Sylvain too long? Smiled to sincerely? Did Sylvain suspect Felix's true feelings, and fled in disgust? Shit, Felix should have been more careful, it was just so hard. Sylvain was so fucking handsome.

One thing was for certain, Sylvain was avoiding Felix like the plague. Felix sighed, and paced again. He was in the library, wearing a rut in the floor from the window to the table in the middle of the room. There was a knock at the door, and Felix practically killed himself sprinting to the door. Had Sylvain come to talk? Felix ripped open the door, but it was only his father. Ugh, not who he wanted to see right now. Felix turned abruptly and walked back to the table. "What do you want?" he asked, putting a hand to his temple.

His father silently approached him. He gently took his arm and turned him towards him. He said something, but for some reason, Felix’s mind couldn’t process the words. Slowly, over several minutes, his mind turned the words over and over again. Glenn… was dead? This must be some kind of sick joke, right? Glenn was so strong, there’s no way he would lose, no way he could be beaten. His father had released his arm and was pacing sadly by the window, unknowingly following the same path his own son had been making a few minutes ago. His mouth was still moving. Felix tried to focus on his words, maybe this was all a mistake, maybe he had mis-heard.

“... and Dimitri is gravely injured, but they say he will live. So our future king has survived.” Rodrigue turned to Felix. “We should be proud Felix, so proud of him. He did his duty and our future king lives. Dimitri lives. Glenn died a hero,” Rodrigue said, nodding his head sadly.

Felix felt something inside him snap. He wanted to laugh, to cry, but all he did was bark out “What?”

“I said, we should be proud, he died like a true knight.” Rodrigue repeated, turning back to the window, oblivious to the storm brewing behind him, in his youngest son.

Felix spluttered and clenched, released, and re-clenched his fists. “Y..You asshole!" he suddenly cried out. "He’s dead, he’s never coming back, and you’re proud of him? Proud he’s DEAD?” There was a ringing in his head and he felt faint. “Is Dimitri’s life worth more than Glenn’s? More than my brother, your SON? What a fucking joke. What a fucking waste! ” Felix couldn’t speak fast enough to get out all of his racing thoughts, filled with anger, horror, and regret.

Rodrigue looked shocked. “You speak of our future king, watch your tongue” he snapped. Then he took a deep shaky breath and ran his fingers along the window sill. “I’m sorry Felix, know you are upset, but you are wrong. Someday, I hope you will understand.”

“I’ll never understand this,” Felix hissed, turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

*****

Felix didn’t go to Sylvain’s room as he always had as a child. He could no longer be fully honest with Sylvain, and Sylvain apparently hated him now, and so there was no point. He went to his own room and closed the door, leaning against it and panting heavily, his thoughts a looping cyclone. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't concentrate, he couldn't THINK.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Go away,” Felix snapped, assuming it was his father, come to try to make amends.

“It’s me Fe. It’s Sylvain. Please. Please can I come in?” he heard. He sighed and closed his eyes. Did he really want to see Sylvain right now? He felt so weak. “Please Fe, I’m here for you,” Sylvain continued.

Felix felt a small hitch in his chest at that. His teeth were clenched so tightly, he thought they might shatter. “It’s open,” he whispered as he took a step away from the door.

Sylvain pushed it open and stepped quietly into the room. Felix couldn't look at him. Suddenly Sylvain threw his arms around Felix, in a crushing hug. “I’m so sorry Felix. I’m so sorry.” Felix stood stiffly for a moment against his arms, before everything cracked and fell, broken. He began sobbing ugly cries. They sank to their knees together, a familiar scene, but it had been years and years.

Sylvain ran his hands along Felix’s head as the teen cried and cried. He stayed there for hours, until Felix had no more tears to cry, and he told him the harsh words his father had said, his words tumbling out in a confused jumble.

“He… he betrayed me Sylvie, I mean he betrayed Glenn too. Everything I thought he was. He’s my fucking DAD, and I just… I don’t even know this man. Maybe he never even cared about Glenn, much less me. Just chivalry and the King and honor and bullshit. If we can just live up to his ideals, it doesn't matter if we're dead. And now he’s dead to me, at least who I thought he was, but he’s still standing there, looking like him” Felix rambled on and on, his thoughts flowing freely from his lips, and Sylvain just held him.

“And I loved Glenn so much and he was so cool and so strong. So brave and good and so fucking strong, and they killed him! What am I supposed to do now? How can I go on without him? I don't know. How am I supposed to protect everyone if I’m not even as strong as Glenn and they killed him like nothing." Sylvain stroked his head softly, soothing.

"I didn't want him to die. I didn't know, I thought he would live forever, I didn't know. I don’t want anyone to die. I'm not strong enough for them to die. I'm not strong enough to stop it either. I...I don’t want anyone to die… I don’t want y...you...you to die…” Felix finished softly, his face buried in Sylvain's wet shoulder.

Felix fell silent and Sylvain rubbed his back. After a few minutes he said softly, “Hey, remember our promise?”

“Of course,” Felix said, so quietly Sylvain almost didn’t hear him.

“Well I told you I’ll always be here right? I’m not about to change that.” Sylvain dropped his hand to Felix’s, and squeezed tightly.

“But what if you die? You can’t be with me if you fucking die,” Felix looked up at him, his eyes like piercing daggers through Sylvains’.

Sylvain felt a lump in his throat, so large he almost couldn't swallow. “No way, that’s not allowed." Goddess, why had you hurt him so? Why Felix? Why couldn't it have been me instead, he thought bitterly. Please don't hurt Felix. "I hereby amend our promise - I won’t die without you. I definitely won’t” Sylvain said firmly, finally swallowing around the lump.

“You better not. You can’t die without me.” Felix said, his amber eyes staring into Sylvain, so fiercely, fire burning directly into his soul.

“I promise. You have to promise me too though,” Sylvain said, staring back just as intently. The mask was long gone, all that remained was pure Sylvain. Worry, concern, and love.

“I promise.”


	5. These walls will protect me

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

In the days following Glenn’s death, Felix felt as though a choking cloud of loss and horror would suffocate him. Glenn’s funeral was held in the capital, and it wasn't really for Glenn at all. It was a group event where all the knights that had sacrificed themselves _(slaughtered, butchered, useless)_ were honored. Felix had heard Ingrid speaking with great sadness about Glenn, but also with the same pride his father spoke of. Glenn had been such a good, pure knight. Such a wonderful man. Ingrid wanted to become a knight as well _(did she hope to follow Glenn? Throw her life away as well? Would he soon have no one left at all?)_ Felix felt so sick. Death was being placed on a pedestal to be worshipped, as the living left behind slowly drowned in sorrow.

When Felix saw Dimitri, he saw something dark and frightening flicker behind his eyes. But really who could blame him? He had lost even more than Felix. Dimitri kept apologizing, so sweetly and sincerely, and it made Felix’s head pound. _It’s not your damn fault,_ he wanted to tell him, _Just keep living, please. Don’t drown._ But the words wouldn’t come out.

Rodrigue looked at Dimitri with fondness and love, as though every hope he had ever had was now pinned on the young prince. There was none left over for Felix. But it was fine, after all his father was already dead. Someone was still there, standing in his father’s image, but it wasn't the man Felix had known. Talking about honoring the late king, some kind of sick tribute. _I’m still here! Your other son is still here, still alive,_ he wanted to scream at his face, but Rodrigue didn’t even seem to look at Felix anymore.

His only comfort was Sylvain's constant presence, always hovering at the edge of his vision, sometimes offering a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder or hand. A sad little smile of understanding and acceptance. Felix was embarrassed about how he had broken down in front of Sylvain that first night. He shouldn't let himself be so open and honest with Sylvain. If he slipped up, he might lose him forever. And Felix was starting to feel like Sylvain was all he had left.

And so, Felix kept it all inside. He built a wall around any lingering feelings of warmth and kindness and love, so they wouldn’t be washed away by the flood that was threatening to overwhelm him. Those feelings were precious, they must be kept safe and protected. Every word his father spoke about the late king and Glenn’s greatness added another layer to that wall. Every time Sylvain flirted with a pretty girl in front of him, every time Ingrid spoke of the glory of knighthood, the wall grew ever stronger.

All that was left were cruel, sharp, honest words. Lashing out at his friends and loved ones, pushing them away, but still clinging to them. He left one small crack in the wall, just enough for Sylvain's hand to reach through. Just enough to tether Sylvain to him forever. He couldn't lose him. Never.

What a foolish life this was, he thought bitterly. What a sick, twisted joke of a life. And every day he would practice at the training grounds until he could no longer lift his sword. He had to become stronger. So much stronger.

*****

Two years later, Felix had his first real battle. They were sent to quell a small rebellion in a nearby town. There were reportedly only a few soldiers, so only Dimitri, Felix, and a small battalion of archers were sent. The day was bright and cold, tiny wispy snowflakes floating in the air, but not falling enough to accumulate.

Only one man had charged them at the edge of town, and he was quickly struck down by Dimitri's lance. The man wore no uniform or marker. Felix frowned, looking into the town. It would be difficult to tell friend from foe. “We have to be careful not to kill any innocent bystanders,” Felix said grimly to Dimitri. “We should wait until they attack first,” he continued.

There was no response from Dimitri at first, and then there was a strangled noise. Felix looked back at him, shocked. Dimitri was laughing. No, the sound that was coming from him couldn’t really be described as laughing, it was more of a bubbling, wicked beastly cackling. Felix recoiled in horror, for Dimitri was no longer there. A monster, a dark demon, a BEAST had taken over.

_Oh no, they killed Dimitri too,_ he thought, as he realized the tragedy of Duscar had claimed another victim. No one had realized it before, but it was clear as day now.. All that remained now was this beast, this boar, cleverly disguised with a Dimitri mask.

It laughed as the soldier’s blood dripped down it’s face. “No need for that,” it spoke. “Kill them all,” and it charged into the village. It swung its lance through the stomach of another charging soldier, and pulled it back out quickly spinning, blood and gore splattering across the road and his face. He turned and thrust again through the back of a woman, trying to flee her house. Her arms flung wide as she shrieked and fell.

“Dimitri!” Felix screamed. He was stumbling towards the beast, his hand outstretched. Dimitri (_no, the Boar_) turned to him, and Felix saw its eyes were clouded with bloodlust. It couldn't see him, there was no sign of recognition. Everyone was an enemy, everyone needed to die. It slashed at Felix ferociously. Felix barely blocked with a snap of his sword upwards. His arms were shaking, numb from the incredible power of the blow. The beast pushed forward, slashing at him again. Felix realized just how much Dimitri had been holding back in their sparring lessons. This monster was so STRONG, stronger than Felix. Like a cornered animal, fighting for its life.

_Oh Goddess, this beast, this boar, is going to kill me. My brother died to save him, my father worships him, and he’s going to kill me. I’m going to break my promise to Sylvain, and my fucking father will probably be proud of me for dying by his hand,_ Felix thought, desperately falling backwards. "Dimitri, Stop!" he cried, pleaded.

There was a sudden cry from one of the battalion archers, and the Boar spun and bounded away towards the new battle, unintentionally saving Felix’s life.

Felix continued to fight that day, trying as best he could to protect the innocent villagers, and to protect his future king. From the rebellion, and from himself. At camp that evening, Felix’s hands, his face and clothes, his heart were all soaked in blood. His bath water was crimson red and smelled like death. He was bathing in the blood of that fucking boar and his victims. His king. His friend.

Meanwhile, Dimitri seemed back to his old endearing self, laughing cheerfully with the battalion survivors at dinnertime. Felix was not fooled. He saw the truth now. The beast may have been subdued by the blood, but it was still there, ever watchful. Felix knew he needed to grow a lot stronger. Stronger, faster, it was never enough. Never enough to protect everyone he cared for.

*****

Felix was 17 and would be attending Garreg Mach. He was hoping to learn some different styles of swordsmanship. Perhaps there would even be someone more skilled than he was, that he could learn from. Anything was better than beating the tired Fraldarius soldiers everyday. Elite troops though they may be, Felix already knew how to beat them. And straw dummies certainly offered no challenge.

After receiving his admission information, he wrote letters to his closest friends:

_Ingrid Brandl Galatea,_  
I write to you with the hope that all goes well with you. I will be attending Garreg Mach this coming year in order to further my studies and training. I am assuming that you will be attending as well, to further your goal of throwing your life away as a useless knight? I look forward to hearing from you,  
_-Felix Hugo Fraldarius_

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius,_  
Mr. Fraldarius, I will indeed be attending Garreg Mach this year, although I HARDLY think being a knight is throwing your life away. It is a noble calling, the most noble of all, in my esteemed opinion. Kindly keep your insults to yourself, and I will see you soon.  
Fondly,  
_-Ingrid Brandl Galatea_  
P.S. Felix…. Dimitri will be there. Please be nice.

_Prince Blaiddyd,_  
I have just learned that you are attending Garreg Mach this year. I don't know what you are planning but you had better control yourself; I’ll be watching you.  
_-Felix Hugo Fraldarius_

_Felix Hugo Fraldarius,_  
My dear friend Felix, how surprised I was to receive a letter from you! I am so very pleased to learn that we will be together at Garreg Mach. I am ever hopeful that perhaps we can mend the rift that seems to have come between us. Perhaps over the next year? I am looking forward to seeing you again and working through our differences.  
_-Fondly and forever your friend, Dimitri_

_Boar Prince,_  
Stay the fuck away from me.  
_-Felix_

_Sylvain Jose Gautier_  
Mr. Gautier, I hope that all goes well with you. I will be attending Garreg Mach this year. During this time, letters of correspondence should be sent to the Monastery instead of House Fraldarius.  
_-Felix Hugo Fraldarius_

_Felix,_  
Wow "Mr. Fraldarius", when were you going to tell me this, two days before you leave? Jerk. I’ll be there, I’m arranging it now. You sure didn't make it easy for me. Anyways, I bet there are tons of beautiful girls there, just dying to meet me Maybe one of them will even taking a liking to you. Unlikely, I know, but not completely impossible! Don't give up hope. See you there.  
_Sylvain_

_*_

“What the fuck,” Felix muttered under his breath after he read Sylvain’s letter. Sylvain was two years older, why was he attending now? It was going to be a lot harder to concentrate on what he needed to, with Sylvain there. The next year was not going to be easy.


	6. What kind of school is this?

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain was not usually an early riser, but today was a special occasion. His first day at Garreg Mach, a school he fervently hoped was filled with beautiful women for Sylvain to woo and enjoy the passing days with. Oh yeah, and Felix. Oh yes. Felix.

After the day at the training yard a few years ago, Sylvain had spent an unhealthy number of hours thinking about Felix. There was no doubt in his mind that what he had felt was attraction. Desire even. But that was simply ridiculous, he couldn't possibly be attracted to FELIX. Felix, his best friend, and a GUY. No way, not happening. His father would kill him. Felix would kill him. Could someone be killed twice? He must have been confused, his hormones out of whack.

Of course, that didn't explain why he was so flustered being around Felix ever since that day. Sylvain thought Felix was definitely not bad looking. Like really pretty good looking actually, ok pretty fucking HOT actually. The problem was, he was absolutely, completely, 100% not interested in girls, or boys, or anything other than swords and fighting. He was pretty sure he knew what Felix's reaction would be if he ever found out about Sylvain's true feelings. He'd probably say "Disgusting" and spit in Sylvain's face, never to speak to him again. Sylvain could NOT let that happen, he could not lose the only damn person in this world he truly cared for.

Sylvain wanted to continue their friendship as it had always been, but unfortunately somewhere along the way he had completely lost any and all ability to act naturally and not like a total moron in front of Felix. He didn't want to get caught staring, so he over compensated the other direction and flirted wildly with any girl in range. Which only seemed to piss Felix off even more.

He could probably spend time with Felix by sparring and training, but Sylvain was nervous as hell to physically interact in such a personal way, with Felix all hot and sweaty and gorgeous and .... damn.

And so in Sylvain's pathetic attempt to act completely normal, he had managed to screw things up so badly that the two were barely on speaking terms. Felix had been so open and honest with him the night that Glenn had died, Sylvain had hoped things were going to change. But Felix had instead pulled back even farther, the space between them becoming a freaking canyon. Felix refused to meet his eyes for more than a second or two, and conversations longer than a few sharp words were now few and far between. Sylvain wanted to fix things, but he just couldn't figure out how.

Then he received Felix's letter about Garreg Mach (damn Felix for waiting to tell him until the week before!). This was his chance! He would have an entire year to try to fix things. Plus he could watch over Felix in case some girl tried to take advantage of him. Felix had never shown interest in such things at home, but there would be tons of cute girls at Garreg Mach, all his age. Felix was ridiculously good looking and athletic and a noble and a crest-bearer too boot, and Sylvain was certain girls would be throwing themselves at him. Felix was probably pretty naive about girls. Sylvain had to be there, just to, you know, make sure the girl was the right kind of girl. Certainly not because he desperately wanted to be near Felix, not a chance.

Sylvain had to beg and bribe his way into the school with such a last minute notice. Luckily, he had ace’d the entrance exam (a mystery to everyone that knew Sylvain and his air-headedness; Sylvain had just shrugged and said, "Must have been a fluke!"). And now he was here! Time to fix some mistakes, and make some memories!

He threw on the school-supplied uniform and sauntered out the door, a large smile on his face. Two doors down he stopped, took a deep breath, and knocked. Felix hadn't answered last night, but Sylvain had gotten in late, so whatever. But there was still no answer. Sylvain frowned slightly, he was sure this was the right door. He knocked again, more loudly. "Felix?" The neighboring door suddenly opened and a blonde-haired teen stood there, blinking in the sunlight and smiling.

"Oh hey Dimitri! Haven't seen you in a while, how's it hanging?" Sylvain asked, stretching his arms out behind his head in a relaxed pose.

"Sylvain! How wonderful to see you again. I am so very pleased that you were able to attend with us this year. I am genuinely looking forward to learning in such a unique and esteemed environment, aren't you? Of course the opportunity to bond more closely with my friends is welcome as well."

Sylvain yawned and looked around the yard. Where was Felix? "Yeah, yeah, sounds great Dima. Lots of fun, for sure. Say, have you seen Felix?"

A tiny pained expression crossed Dimitri's face, and most people wouldn't have even seen it. But Sylvain was not most people. Dimitri was probably upset about Felix's attitude towards him the last two years. Sylvain wasn't sure what had happened - Felix was too distant by that point to talk with him honestly, and had refused to say anything more than "Boar!" "Beast" and "Watch your back", whatever that meant. Sylvain of course saw a darkness occasionally flicker deep in Dimitri's eyes, but it couldn't be THAT bad, could it?

"I have not had the pleasure. Might I suggest that he is perhaps at the training grounds?" Dimitri said.

Sylvain slapped his forehead and grinned at Dimitri. "Of course he is! Where else would he be? I don't even know why I asked, must be too early for my brain. Thanks Dimitri, see you later!" and Sylvain waved as he ran off. There were lots of super cute girls on his way there, but he really wanted to see Felix, so he just smiled, waved, and winked where it seemed appropriate, as he made his way over to the training yard.

Outside the door, he suddenly felt nervous. He balanced on one leg and then the other. He hadn't seen Felix for months, he wondered if he looked any different. Self-consciously, he tugged on his shirt collar and brushed at the fabric, removing any stray dirt (there was none). He carefully pushed open the doors and quietly slipped inside.

There was an exotic looking girl with a long purple braid swinging a sword at a short boy with crazy bushy blue hair. He didn't even have a weapon, just his fists. He was shouting loudly, and bouncing all over the place. Next to them was a small wisp of a boy with grey hair and a bow. He was nervously looking around, and didn't appear to actually be shooting anything. But where was Felix?

Sylvain walked deeper into the hall and he heard the clash of training blades. Oh Goddess, there he was. His back was turned to Sylvain (very good, because Sylvain didn't think he would be able to control his face just yet). Felix's body was slender and lithe, his movements cat-like. His clothes were tight enough that Sylvain could see the muscles ripple beneath them, his body moving in a hypnotic dance. So fast and fluid, he gracefully parried with an expressionless woman with equally vacant eyes.

Sylvain realized his mouth was hanging open, and snapped it shut. There may have been drool, he couldn't be sure. Shit, Felix was so beautiful, his hair was even longer than last time Sylvain had seen him, and small wisps of it had come loose from the bun. Sylvain yearned to touch them, to push them back and run his fingers through, and....

"Why hellloooo there," said a voice at Sylvain's side, and Sylvain probably jumped five feet straight up.

"Holy shit, you scared me," he said, hand on his chest, his heart beating unnaturally fast. The voice had come from a man with skin the color of caramel, and dressed in flowing golden clothes. He had sparkling green eyes and a knowing grin. He was quite handsome, Sylvain noted.

"Sorry sorry," the man said laughing lightly. "Names Claude. Claude von Riegan."

"Oh right, I've heard of you. I'm Sylvain Jose Gautier." Sylvain replied. He vaguely remembered that Claude was some kind of recently discovered mystery heir from the Alliance, but Sylvain hadn't heard much more about him. He certainly wasn't hard on the eyes.

"I'm aware," Claude nodded. "Wow, nice view, eh? Think he'd spar with me?" Claude asked with a wink and tipped his head towards Felix.

"Oh sure, he'll spar with anyone," Sylvain responded easily.

Claude's eyes opened a little wider and his smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. "Oh is that so? And you're ok with that? Or maybe, would YOU like to spar?"

"Uh..." wait a minute, what were we talking about? Sylvain suddenly found himself replaying the conversation in his mind and stammering. He turned to fully face Claude.

"Wh.. wha what do you ...? Uh, I mean," Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck nervously. I'm not... I mean, we...We uh... we aren't uh...". Just who was this man, and what the hell was he implying?

"Hey ok, don't hurt yourself there pal," Claude considered Sylvain for a moment and then sighed. "I get it. No worries man, forget I said anything. But you know, people are pretty accepting here, so if you ever want to talk, just let me know, k? Or you know, if you ever DO want to spar, I'm your guy,” he nudged Sylvain’s side with his elbow and winked again.

Slyvain found himself struggling to keep up with the conversation, something that he had never experienced before. "Uh... ook?" Claude looked him up and down, nodded, and walked away without another word.

Sylvain stared after him for a moment in confusion, and then turned back to Felix. But Felix was gone. Where had he gone? Sylvain had only looked away for like 2 minutes! And was he purposely avoiding him? There's no way he could have left the training grounds without having seen Sylvain!

"Hello." said a voice from behind Sylvain, and Sylvain again jumped and spun. This damn school was going to give him a heart attack! Why was everyone so sneaky? Was it impossible to say hello from in FRONT of a person?

The voice had come from Felix's former sparring partner. The woman was beautiful enough, but her face was completely blank, which was slightly unnerving. Sylvain turned on the charm. "Oh my apologies, your astonishing beauty startled me. My name's Sylvain. Sylvain Jose Gautier.”Sylvain leaned towards her, took her hand and kissed it gently with a smile. “Hey, has anyone ever told you that your eyes are the color of the sea at twilight?"

The girl blinked at him and stared at her hand that was still being held by Sylvain. "No." she replied flatly.

Huh, that line usually worked. Ok then, change in tactics, maybe she was more the strong warrior type. Sylvain let her hand go gently, and leaned back with his hands behind his head. He knew this angle did great things for the muscles in his arms. "I hope Felix wasn't too hard on you, he doesn't know when to take it easy. I gotta say, you looked amazing out there with that sword of yours. Not many girls can fight like that!"

The girl considered the hand Sylvain had released, and then brought it up to her chin and tilted her head in thought. "Felix. The swordsman? No, I beat him easily enough. Although he shows talent. My name is Byleth. Goodbye." And she turned away and walked off.

Sylvain gaped after her. What? What was this school? Why was everyone so weird? And did she that she had BEATEN Felix? FELIX? Damn, she must be some kind of demon.

A familiar voice then came from the shadows at the edge of the yard (at least it wasn't from behind again, there was only so much his heart could handle). "What are you doing here Gautier?"

"Felix! Oh thank the Goddess, finally. I've been looking for you for like HOURS." Sylvain beamed at him and closed the distance between them.

Felix let out a big sigh. "I seriously doubt that. I don't think you've ever gotten up that early in your entire life." Felix made eye contact with Sylvain for 2 seconds before turning away. Sylvain smiled. Felix’s eyes were such a beautiful amber color, and his long eyelashes framed his eyes, just as the long wisps of hair framed his sculpted jaw. His lips were pursed in a tight line. "I asked, what are you doing here?" he repeated.

"Well of course I wanted to stop in and see my dearest and best of friends. That's only natural, isn't it? I missed you, it's been way too long," Sylvain replied. He could see the sheen of sweat on Felix's face, a bead of sweat trickled down his jaw into his neck and....

"No I mean, what are you doing HERE? At Garreg Mach? You've never shown any interest in your schooling before. Are you just here to flirt with girls? There's plenty of girls in the capital, you're just wasting your money and time here." Felix put a hand on his hip as he spoke, and turned his face even further away so Sylvain had a perfect profile view. Sylvain's eyes slid down to Felix's hand on his hip and he couldn't help but notice how well shaped Felix was, so very slender, with the pants hugging tightly and...

"Uh..." Sylvain coughed and looked up at Felix quickly. Luckily Felix was still looking away. "I want to train? And get serious about studying?"

"Is that a statement or a question?" Felix asked, sighing and looking at him again.

"A statement! This is a good school, right? As the future Margrave Gautier, I can’t have a reputation for being TOO dumb," Sylvain offered, putting a hand to his chest. Felix looked away again, and Sylvain could have sworn his cheeks were slightly pink. Must be from training. It was so cute.

"You aren't dumb Sylvain."

Sylvain's eyes widened and he smiled a real smile. Felix had complimented him! "Why thanks Felix, that means a lot coming from you. Don't tell anyone though, I don't want to disappoint anyone."

"Hmph. No one expects anything from you, other than incessant flirting," Felix replied.

"Ouch, and there it is, the sharp verbal abuse I've grown so accustomed to. It's starting to feel like home here already." Sylvain flung his arm around the swordsman's shoulders.

Felix stiffened, and then angrily shoved Sylvain off. "Don't touch me," he snapped and stormed off towards the dining hall.

Ah yes, things were going so well already and it wasn't even lunchtime. Sylvain sighed and followed, trying not to look like a dejected puppy.

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix walked briskly to the dining hall, silently cursing Sylvain's long legs. He was walking behind him, smiling and winking at all the girls (who were watching him with admiring eyes, naturally), and he was still able to keep up with Felix. Felix was replaying the last few minutes over in his mind, analyzing and re-analyzing every move and word Sylvain had made. Why had he been talking to that bronzed God of a man, and who was he? What had he said to Byleth, the impressive and mysterious mercenary that had handily beaten Felix without breaking a sweat? Had he seen Felix lose, and lose badly? Why had he put his arm on Felix's shoulders, causing a rush of heat to flood Felix's entire body? And most of all, why was he really here? Was he intent on following Felix to the ends of the world, haunting his every move with that damn charming smile and eyes of silken copper? Why was he making things so difficult?

In the dining hall, Ingrid and the Boar were sitting together at a table. Ingrid waved excitedly and motioned them over to some empty seats they had saved. The Boar made a small wave, nervously looking at Felix. Ugh, what a nightmare. Felix grabbed the first plate of food he saw and marched over to the table. He sat as far from the Boar as possible. "Ingrid." he said with a nod.

"Hi Felix! Hi Sylvain! Are you settling in ok? I've been here a week already, so if you need any help finding anything, just let me know and I'll be happy to help," Ingrid was her usual helpful, over-achieving self. Felix took a mouthful of food and grimaced. Too sweet. What was this garbage?

"My dear sweet Ingrid, I'm so glad you asked," Sylvain said smoothly, plopping down next to Felix. His leg kept touching Felix's thigh everytime he moved, sending burning shocks through Felix each time. "Where are the girl dormitories? And the sauna?" Sylvain continued, leaning forward over his plate with a twinkle in his eye. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Sylvain! You should know very well the dorms are mixed, and the sauna isn't even open yet. I guess they are doing renovations and aren't expecting it to open this year," Ingrid replied in her “Mom voice”, as Sylvain had teasingly named it. Felix couldn't really remember his mother, other than vague lullabies sung to him at night, but it seemed a fitting enough name. "And I certainly hope that this is not indicative of the type of behavior that you’re going to be exhibiting here! I always have to follow you around and clean up the confusions and mistakes you leave behind, and I'm getting tired of it!" Ingrid continued angrily.

Felix figured it must take an awful lot for Ingrid to get REALLY tired, since this was about the thousandth time he had heard her "getting tired of it" speech, usually directed at Sylvain, but occasionally at himself.

"Ok well, first that is totally great, and secondly, that sucks. Although I guess the first kind of makes up for the second." Sylvain leaned back and looked around. He had completely ignored the second part of Ingrid's speech. "Wow there sure are a lot of cute girls here, this is like heaven. There's a little spitfire over there with ponytails and a gorgeous brunette with curves all day, and then there's.... Holy shit." Sylvain stopped and leaned forward again suddenly, smacking Felix's arm in the process. Felix grumbled in displeasure as his fork was knocked from his hand. "It's the dagger girl," Sylvain hissed. "Dimitri, the dagger girl, right over there!" He poked Dimitri's shoulder hard and pointed at another table.

"Oh wow, he's right," Ingrid said, peering around to where he was pointing. "Edelgard is here, how interesting."

Dimitri's face had turned a bright red and the fork in his hand was bent in half. Felix snickered. Maybe this won't be such a bad year after all.


	7. Problem? What problem?

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Byleth stood before Felix, and he grimaced at how composed she looked compared to him. He was crouched, covered in sweat, and trying to catch his breath. She stood calmly, her sword ready for the next move. He was pleased to note that she was breathing a little faster than normal at least. But the weight of the sword in his hand had grown heavy, and he knew his movements were getting sloppy. Suddenly she thrust forward, and he turned into the blade, blocking it easily. But he hadn't expected her to turn and throw a fist at his stomach with her other hand. Shit, he had walked right into it. He stumbled to the side, losing his balance as he tried to dodge. But it was too much, and he lost his footing and went to one knee. Her sword was at his throat before he could react. "You lose," she said, "again."

Damn. She was a tough opponent, and not at all what he was used to fighting. Her tactics were so different from those taught in knight training; he was woefully unprepared for a foe like her. She used all parts of her body - hands, feet, even teeth. She didn't stick to the standard stances, freely flowing from one to another, and sometimes dropping them altogether. She was unexpected and impossible to predict. He had sparred with her countless times, but he still couldn't beat her. It was exhilarating - this was exactly what he had hoped for.

"Hmph, I yield," he said, standing and brushing the dirt from his pants. "I was right to cross blades with you, you are strong," he conceded.

"Wow professor, you may not realize it, but that is the highest form of compliment coming from him," Sylvain said from the sidelines, a big grin on his mouth.

Byleth's lips twitched, and Felix wondered if that was as close to a smile as she would ever get. "You're getting better Felix. That was a challenge" she said with a small nod.

Felix felt a small pinch of pride. "All right, I get it, you don't need to butter me up," he said roughly.

Again her lips twitched. "Very well. I must take my leave now, I am meeting Lysithea for tea. I will see you both in class later," she said, and turned to leave. What a strange woman she was, Felix thought. She had gotten several of the students from the other classes to join the Blue Lions, although Felix couldn't understand her motives. Bernadetta, from the Black Eagles had been the latest recruit, and it seemed Byleth's attention was now on the young white haired girl prodigy. Felix didn't know much about Lysithea, except that she was apparently obsessed with cake, and wouldn't leave him in peace and cake-free. She must be strong if the Professor was trying to recruit her though, Byleth had an excellent eye for talent. She had even forced Felix to study reason magic. He had been against it, but to his irritation, she had been right - he was a natural at it.

Sylvain slung his arm on Felix’s shoulder, and Felix instinctively slapped it away. "What are you doing here Sylvain?"

"Felix, your tone wounds me, I thought you would be happy to see me here! I'm finally taking my training seriously, after all," Sylvain said, and he put his hand to his chest dramatically, as though Felix's words had actually impacted him.

"That's rich coming from you. You've been here every day this week, but I haven't actually seen you pick up a weapon once. You seem to just be... galavanting around," Felix snapped. He was irritated. He didn't understand what game Sylvain was playing at, but he was spending an unusual amount of time at the training yard lately, and Felix found it distracting as hell. "If you aren't going to take this seriously, why don't you go chase some skirts elsewhere?"

A look of hurt flashed across Sylvain's face, but was quickly replaced by his usual smile. "Aww come on Felix, can't I do both at once? I can train with you and flirt at the same time!" he winked.

Felix's lip curled up into a sneer. "There's no girls here to impress, stupid. They're all too busy actually working to notice you."

Sylvain suddenly looked away and coughed. "Uh, that wasn't my intention," and he shuffled his feet. Then he looked back up, his smile back. "Hey Felix, it's lunch time, why don't we take a break and grab some food?"

Felix glanced at the sky. "It's like 10 in the morning you moron."

Sylvain slapped his hand on Felix's shoulder again and Felix flinched. "Yeah, but I bet you didn't have breakfast yet, so we can have an in-between snack, right? It's hard to get stronger without fuel."

"You’re starting to sound like Ingrid." Felix sighed and put away his practice sword. “Ughh, alright fine.” He pushed the stray hairs that had fallen from his bun out of his face and behind his ear with an irritated "tch". He heard Sylvain make a noise, and looked up at him. Sylvain was watching him and his eyes were dark and hooded. "What are you staring at?" Felix asked, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"N...nothing!" Sylvain said, and put one hand on his hip. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

"I changed my mind, go without me," Felix said, turning back to his sword. What was Sylvain's problem? Felix didn't want Sylvain to see his face right now. Damn this man, he cursed under his breath.

Sylvain grabbed his wrist. His hands were large and strong and warm. Felix could feel the calluses along his palm where his lance would rest. Sylvain started marching towards the dining hall, dragging Felix behind him. "No way, you aren't backing out now. I wouldn't be much of a friend if I let you collapse from hunger and exhaustion, right?"

Felix would have normally pulled away, but he was feeling worn down from all of the attention Sylvain had been piling on him lately. A tiny part of him might actually enjoy this kind of thing - Sylvain, so caring and kind, looking after him. So he allowed Sylvain to lead him along the path.

Ashe and Dorothea were standing chatting under a tree along the pathway, and had turned to stare at them as Sylvain marched past them. Felix glared at them with narrow eyes, a daring challenge. Ashe had turned bright red, and almost fell over in his effort to look away quickly. But Dorothea's lips had turned into a knowing smirk and her eyes followed them. Ugh, he would probably regret that later, he thought. At the edge of the dining hall, Felix yanked his wrist away from Sylvain. "I can walk by myself, I'm not a child."

"Sure thing Fe. Hey I hear they are having a spicy curry tonight for dinner, I think Ashe and Dedue are going to prepare it together. You definitely aren't going to want to miss that! I'll save you a seat." Felix shifted in annoyance. Sylvain knew that was one of his favorite dishes, and by not actually *asking* him if he wanted to go, he wasn't really giving Felix the option of declining. Felix knew that Sylvain preferred having a reputation of being dumb, but it was a lie. Sometimes Sylvain was too damned clever for his own good.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

  
Sylvain knew he was playing with fire. The more time he spent with Felix, the more likely Felix would be to pick up on Sylvain's true feelings. The more likely it would be for someone else to see them together, and connect the dots. The more likely it would be for rumors to spread home to the Margrave, and for the repercussions to make Sylvain's life a living hell. But he couldn't seem to stop himself.

He had heard other students talking about how they missed their families and homes sometimes. That comfortable, natural, relaxed feeling of being right where you belong. Sylvain had never felt that way about his own family or home, but it was becoming clear to him that Felix was his home. It felt so good, so *right* to be with him. Just existing at his side... so easy. It was dangerous how easy it was.

He needed to figure this out, but his mind felt like a mud puddle, and someone kept swishing it with a stick. Who was stirring it? Felix? The Margrave? Sylvain himself? He needed some perspective. And so he found himself outside the door of the one person he really didn't want to talk to ever again. He knocked.

The door opened, and green eyes sparkled mischievously at him. "Well, well, it's about time you showed up," Claude said, bowing and dramatically motioning Sylvain to come in.

"I didn't actually tell you I was coming here. You make it sound like you were expecting me," Sylvain said, glancing left and right before quickly walking into the room.

"Hmm, I was expecting you though. Maybe not today, but..." Claude trailed off. Sylvain looked around the room curiously. Stacks of books were piled on every available surface, and there was a coating of dust everywhere. Sylvain already knew Claude was more than he appeared on the surface, and that fact was just more firmly cemented now.

"Here, let me clear you a spot," Claude said, lifting a leaning pile of books off of the dusty chair. Then he plopped onto his bed with his legs crossed, and faced Sylvain, a welcoming look on his face. "Go on, sit down," he motioned to the chair. "Unless, you want to sit here," and he winked while motioning to the bed next to him.

Sylvain almost fell over rushing to sit in the chair while Claude snickered at him. Sylvain sat in silence for a few minutes, and glanced around the room, studying the titles of the books strewn about. He found it hard to look at Claude's face. "If you just wanted to borrow some books, this school has an actual library, believe it or not." Claude said after the silence had stretched uncomfortably long.

Sylvain sighed. "You know that's not why I'm here, Claude. I... I guess I could use some help. And I'm not sure who else to go to."

Claude nodded and ran one of his hands through his spiky hair. "I'm always happy to help out a friend. I mean, as long as it's not too much work, you know. But I'm guessing it's...."

"I think I love him," Sylvain whispered, interrupting Claude mid-sentence. And the relief he felt when those words slipped out was unimaginable. Oh how wonderful it felt to finally speak the truth.

Claude gasped a little and widened his eyes. "Wow." he said softly. "Wow. Hey that's ... that's great! What's the problem then?"

"What?! Everything. Everything is the problem. I *can’t* love him. My father, my family, my house... they'd never accept this. I'm the fucking heir to House Gautier right?" Sylvain leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees.

Now it was Claude's turn to interrupt. "Really Sylvain? Is that really what's stopping you? Your family name is what you care about?"

Sylvain stared at him. Of course that was what he cared about. What else was there? Claude was watching him, as though he expected more. "Uh… but Felix is a guy.”

Claude frowned. "Huh. That's unexpected. Sylvain, I saw you congratulate Caspar and Linhardt when they became an official couple. Does their relationship disgust you?"

"What? No, of course not. I'm always happy to see two people in love,” Sylvain said, confused with where the conversation was going.

"Uh, Sylvain, I'm not sure if you noticed, but they are both guys."

Sylvain blinked in surprise. "So?"

Claude raised an eyebrow. "Ok, I gotta ask this. I always thought you were just pretending to be an idiot, but are you *actually* an idiot?!"

"What? No! Er, I mean, yes!" Sylvain put a hand to his temple in frustration.

Claude gawked at him. "Let me try this from a different angle. What would you think if Felix was in love with you?"

Sylvain scoffed, "He’s not. He never would. Look Felix deserves happiness and I don't want to hurt him. But I can't stop these feelings, and I don't know what to do."

"Oh." Claude said and he looked at Sylvain thoughtfully.

Sylvain waited patiently, but Claude said nothing. "Well?" He finally asked.

"Do you really want to know what I think? I'm not really sure you do," Claude replied softly.

"Well *obviously*, that's why I'm here right?"

"Ok, don't say I didn't warn you. Sylvain Gautier, you really and truly hate yourself." Claude said matter-of-factly, and leaned back against the wall behind him. “I overheard you talking to Teach, and I know you flirt with girls and dump them because they are only after your name, your position, your crest. You want to use them before they use you. I get it. Really I do. And I bet you think they couldn't possibly actually be interested in you for anything else. Why would they be? There's nothing to love about you other than your name and crest, am I right? No one has ever loved YOU, not your family, no one. And Felix is your closest friend and he’s gotta know who you really are inside. But he’s already got it all - he doesn't need your name or crest. So I’m sure you’re thinking that he definitely would never love you. He'd say it's disgusting, because you're disgusting and loving you is unimaginable, right? You don't deserve love. Felix does, sure. But not you. It doesn't matter what YOU want, you're just a filthy Gautier, and you will get exactly what you deserve. Am I right?"

All of the color had drained from Sylvain's face. He was frozen and his mouth was open in a little o shape. “I… I….” This wasn’t what he had wanted at all. He wanted help from Claude, but this couldn’t be it. Could it? Of course, Felix could SEE Sylvain, so he’d never love him. But, that didn’t mean he hated himself, did it? And if he did, there was damned good reason, so what the hell was he supposed to do about it?

Claude sighed. “It’s funny really, because Felix is the one that knows you best, and he definitely doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would put up with being friends with such a lowlife. He’s so blunt and honest. It’s almost like he, I don’t know… likes and cares for you? The real you, I mean. And Felix is no idiot. I kind of want to know the Sylvain that Felix knows. It must be someone pretty special.”

Sylvain gasped and started shaking, tears falling down his face. He covered his eyes. Real men shouldn’t cry. And then Claude was there beside him, hugging him and patting his back, like Sylvain had always comforted Felix. “It’s ok to cry man, let it out. You got handed a shit family and they really screwed you up, and it’s not fair. But you’re here and believe it or not, there are people that actually care for you. So get a grip and open your eyes. Start living for yourself.”


	8. Mistakes were made

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix begrudgingly admitted that Byleth was a tolerable teacher. Some might even go as far as to say she was a decent friend. Felix wouldn’t, of course, but some might. Despite this, there were times that Felix wanted to punch her in the fucking face.

She had sent Sylvain to the left flanking position in their most recent battle, while Felix was given the right side. He had glared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she just pretended not to. She should have known that Sylvain wasn’t that strong. He never trained enough. And now he had gone and gotten himself hurt.

“It’s fine Felix, it’s just a scratch. Manuela said it won’t even be visible in a week’s time. It barely hurts even now,” Sylvain said from the infirmary bed, a smile plastered on his dumb face, and a bandage wrapped around his left arm.

Felix's eyes kept cycling between Sylvain's face, his arm, and the floor. “That was so STUPID Sylvain,” Felix hissed at him. “You could have been KILLED!” Felix’s hands were clenched into tight little fists.

“Hey, hey, I thought you said I wasn’t stupid? Look I’m sorry, but I’m really not trying to throw my life away. I promised I wouldn’t die, right? Have I ever broken a promise to you?” Sylvain asked, his tone kind, but serious. He reached out and took one of Felix’s fists and gently pried it open.

Felix stared at his hand, feeling the warmth slowly spread up his arm, and into his heart. Sylvain lied all the freaking time to everyone else. But… no, he had never broken a promise to Felix. Felix wanted to scream at him _“Don’t leave me you idiot! You’re all I’ve got!”_ But all he did was whisper, “No.”

“Ok then, stop worrying about me. And I’ll start training more, ok?” Felix looked up. Sylvain’s eyes were like buttery toffee. His smile was gentle and genuine, for once. The mask was gone and it was just all Sylvain. Felix felt his chest tighten.

Felix stood up and yanked his hand away from Sylvain. Damn him, this was so hard. Almost more than he could bear. "Tch, you better. You better train more. I can't always be there to protect you," he said. “And I was wrong, you are definitely stupid. Probably the biggest fool ever. I’m leaving,” and he stomped out of the room.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

  
Sylvain had thought about Claude’s words many times. Over and over. Somehow, Claude had picked out that thread of truth in Sylvain that he hadn’t even known was there. Invisible shackles had been lifted from him, but the new freedom left him disoriented. What should he do next? Was he actually free to live his life as he wanted? Did he deserve to?

The White Heron Ball was next week, and Sylvain didn’t have a date. A few girls had asked him, but he had turned them all down. He knew who he wanted to ask, but he was also terrified. If Felix didn’t return his feelings, he might lose him forever, and that risk seemed too huge to overcome.

But the time was passing fast, and he certainly didn’t want to be without a date at all. Not Sylvain Gautier, the most charming man in Garreg Mach! That simply wouldn’t do. So Sylvain was strolling around the grounds in front of the officer academy, considering how to proceed. He saw Dorothea sitting on a bench in the grass, looking as gorgeous as ever and her arm was intertwined with some Black Eagle girl he didn’t recognize. He suddenly felt kind of warm and happy inside.

He waltzed over to them. “Why hello there, beautiful ladies, what are you doing just sitting here on such a fine day like this?”

Dorothea glared up at him. “Get lost, Sylvain. My GIRLFRIEND and I are enjoying our time together, and there’s no room on this bench for three.”

Sylvain leaned back, with his hands behind his head. “Hey that’s good for you two. I’m glad for you, honestly I am. I hope you have fun at the ball.” He gave them a big smile, and began wandering off.

Dorothea stared after him. “Really?” she asked suddenly.

Sylvain looked back, “Sure, why not? Seeing two people in love always puts a smile on my face.”

Dorothea paused and stood up. “Hey Sylvain, thanks. I may have mis-judged you. I’m sorry about that.”

Sylvain shrugged his shoulders, “There’s not much to me, I’m a pretty simple guy. Just trying to have fun, right? It’s no big deal, so don’t worry about it.”

Dorothea bit her lower lip looked back at her girlfriend. “Look, I’m suddenly feeling generous, so I’m gonna help you out with a little tip. There was a really cute guy at the training grounds a few months ago, and I was trying to play hard to get and pretend I wasn’t interested. But then he got all sweaty and took off his vest, and wow! Those muscles were just delightfully delicious and I couldn’t help but blush. If he’d been looking at me then, he definitely would have seen my interest. Sometimes if you pay attention, the answer is right there in front of you.” Dorothea twirled and walked back to the bench.

“Huh.” Sylvain leaned forward with a grin. “Are you asking me to take my shirt off? Because if so, I’d be happy to oblige!”

Dorothea scoffed. “Goddess, Claude was right, you really are an idiot.”  


*****

  
Certification exams were coming up soon, so most students were busy studying in the dorms or library. Felix had already passed his swordmaster exam, and he was the only one in the training grounds. Sylvain watched him for a moment and brushed his hand across his face. Dorothea’s words danced through his head. He was pretty sure that her suggestion had been for some kind of subtle surveillance, but that wasn’t Sylvain’s style.

“Spar with me,” Felix said, turning to him, one hand on his hip. “I’m tired of slashing up hay bales, and you should offer at least slightly more challenge.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Sylvain walked over to the training lances. “I’m not gonna go easy on you today.”

Felix crouched into a fighting stance. “That’s my line,” he said. He was smiling, and it was dazzling.

Ok Sylvain, you need to concentrate. Can’t get distracted here, you are on a mission. Sylvain’s face went serious, and a look of surprise flickered across Felix’s face. Felix scored several hits easily, and if it was a real fight, Sylvain would be long dead. But Sylvain was biding his time, waiting for the right chance, and a few bruises weren’t about to slow him down. Finally, he saw his opening, and he lunged forward, using his full raw strength to hit the sword from Felix’s arm. Felix tumbled backwards, and Sylvain jumped on top of him. Felix tried to roll away, but Sylvain had trapped him, and he was too strong. Felix scored a punch on Sylvain’s shoulder before Sylvain pinned him. He was relying on his superior raw strength, since he knew he could not beat Felix in speed or agility.

Sylvain was on top of him, with his arms pinning Felix’s above his head. He leaned in close to Felix’s face. “Gotcha,” he said with a smirk.

Felix was staring at him fiercely, his body tense, like a cat ready to pounce. “Good one, I see you’ve been practicing your brawling skills.” Sylvain released Felix’s arms, but didn’t stand up, not just yet. In typical Sylvain fashion, he impulsively decided to put Dorothea’s plan into effect. Right here, right now. Better not to overthink these things too much - and Felix was into aggressive things right? Full steam ahead!

“Yeah, you never know when hand-to-hand combat skills might come in handy,” Sylvain said. “Whew, is it hot in here or what?” he fanned his face with his hand.

Felix frowned. “It’s winter, you idiot. And can you get off me already?”

“I must not be used to working out so hard then, huh?” Sylvain unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled it off, revealing his well-sculpted chest.

Felix spluttered underneath him, “Wh...what the hell are you doing?”

Sylvain looked down with his best smile, but he wasn’t prepared for Felix’s face. It was bright red, and Felix had brought his arm across his eyes. He was looking away. HOLY SHIT, he’s embarrassed and ridiculously cute, Sylvain thought. He suddenly realized he was sitting in a very… compromising position. He felt a rush of heat going to his lower half. Abort mission! Abort! Sylvain jumped up and stumbled backwards away from Felix. Sylvain needed to get out of here!

“What is your problem?” Felix asked loudly, still lying on the ground.

“W...what do you mean?” asked Sylvain. He was glad Felix wasn’t looking at him.

“You’ve been acting weird since we got here. You keep touching me and I see you staring at me sometimes, and you’ve even flirted with me. Are you really that desperate for practice? Have you sunk so low that you have to do it with me too? ” Felix spit out.

Sylvain plunged onwards, “No that’s not it at all Fe. The truth is, I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the Ball with me? I don’t have a date, and I figured you probably don’t either, so maybe, I don’t know, you’d want to come with me?” Whew! That may have not been the most graceful way to ask, but he had done it!

Felix jumped up in one fluid movement, grabbing his sword from the dirt. He stared at Sylvain, his eyes flashing dangerously. One hand rested on his slender hip, the other held the sword, pointed towards Sylvain’s throat. Several loose pieces of hair had fallen into his face and he was shaking, with … anger? “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is a joke, right? Do I look like I want to DANCE with you?”

Sylvain had never seen anything more beautiful in his whole life. Felix was a freaking vision. His mouth moved before he could think, “Definitely,” He said, dumbly.

Felix gaped at him. He dropped the sword. “I’m not one of your GIRLS Sylvain, and I’m not some fucking backup plan for you when you can’t score. I thought you respected me more than that,” Felix was spitting out his words with angry venom. He spun on his heel and marched out.

“Felix no, that was never my intention, I’m sorry!” he cried out, but Felix was already gone. Oh. Oh no, he’d fucked up. Sylvain had really, really and truly, fucked up.


	9. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: major loss, grief

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix wasn’t sure he could take much more. Sylvain had been acting weird, really, really weird, for months now. And then that “incident” at the training grounds. It had hurt Felix more than he wanted to admit to know that Sylvain cared so little for him. Using him like he did the other girls. Did he not even see Felix as a friend anymore? And the worst thing was that Felix still loved him. At this point, he was starting to think Sylvain could literally strangle him to death and he would still love him.

So Felix had been avoiding Sylvain. He didn’t know how to act around him anymore. And he didn’t have enough mental energy to deal with it right now, because something terrible had happened. The Flame Emperor’s identity had been revealed, and the Boar was cracking. Felix could see it, as clear as day. But he didn't know what to do. Dimitri wouldn't listen to him, he just grunted and glared. And the Beast was there, fangs peeking out, ready to escape. _Someone, do something!_ he wanted to scream.

Felix had even talked with the professor, practically begging her for help, and she had nodded and said she would take care of it. But she didn’t DO anything and the boar was losing it more and more each day. Felix couldn’t stand to look at him, but he couldn’t look away either. Was he strong enough to protect everyone when the monster finally took over? Was he strong enough to protect Dimitri? Could he even do both? Felix lacked the emotional maturity to deal with something this complex. He was in over his head, and no one was taking this seriously.

The professor called him in one day, and she looked at him pointedly. “I have a mission for you. It will take you away from here for a few days.”

“No.” Felix said immediately. He couldn’t risk leaving the Boar like this, and he needed to keep up his practice regimen. He was constantly growing. Stronger and faster every day. It was never enough.

“I think it will be good for you. And to be honest, I’m not giving you a choice. You, Sylvain, and Ingrid will go. Everyone else is tied up with other duties. We’ve received a letter asking for aid from the residents in a small town near the Empire border.. It’s just a small group of bandits. It should only take a few days to get there and back. We won’t be fighting our next large battle with the Empire for 2 weeks yet, that leaves you plenty of time,” Byleth explained, her voice as expressionless as her face.

Felix rubbed his eyes, shadowed with dark circles. He was so damned tired. He understood where the professor was coming from, what she was trying to do. But he felt great trepidation at leaving. And he really didn’t want to go with Sylvain. He looked at her, but her face was like marble. He sighed. "I'll agree on one condition. You need to do something about the Boar.” He hoped she could see the desperation in his eyes. “Please.” _Save us. Save HIM._ Byleth nodded.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Something had gone horribly wrong, and Sylvain was scared. There was only supposed to be a handful of bandits, an easy victory. But swarms of them had come out of the houses around the town, too many to count. It was an ambush. Shit, shit, shit, this was really bad.

Felix’s blade was a whir of motion, his back pressed to Sylvain’s. “Sylvain, this is bad.” Felix yelled as an arrow ripped a gash in his arm. He winced in pain.

“Yeah I fucking see that,” Sylvain yelled back, throwing his javelin through the archer’s chest in frustration. There were too many of them. They needed to find an opening, an escape route. Had this been a trap? An Empire scheme? Who was behind this? He needed to get Felix out of here. If they could just reach Ingrid… could three people even fit on a Pegasus?

Sylvain was distracted and didn’t even see the axe. He just heard a scream and saw a flash of movement and then everything was red. What had happened? There was a bandit wielding a large axe dripping in blood standing in front of him, and he had a wicked grin. Sylvain struck him down.

Where was Felix? Oh shit, he had fallen down, he was on the ground. Sylvain dropped to his knees. There was so much red, something was wrong with Felix's chest. The red couldn’t be blood - there was too much of it. Felix wasn't moving, and his eyes had a strange look - sort of glazed and empty. Sylvain could hear someone saying “No no no nono, Felix NO!” It sounded strangely like his own voice, but that couldn’t be right.

Then someone was pulling on his shirt and yelling “Get up, get UP!” Sylvain shook his head, why couldn’t he understand what was happening? _Oh, it was Ingrid._ “Come ON Sylvain, you need to get up, I can’t lift you. My pegasus, Come ON! It’s too late, too late, he’s gone” She was sobbing and pulling and Sylvain followed her willingly. He didn’t understand. He was blinking rapidly in confusion, but things weren’t making any sense. The next thing he knew, he was standing in Byleth’s office and she was looking at him, and then the floor. She rested her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry Sylvain. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. If I’d only been there, maybe ... maybe I … I’m sorry.”

Sylvain just nodded at her. “It’s ok, I understand,” he said, even though he didn't. He returned to his room and hurried to bed so he could wake up from this fucking awful nightmare. This was definitely not real, he was sure of that much. He just needed to wake up.

******

The first few weeks, Sylvain stayed busy. He didn’t cry, this wasn’t real anyways. There’s no way Felix would die on him. He’d never break his promise. People gave him pitying glances and asked if there was anything they could do? _Like what?_ he wanted to ask. _Can you wake me up please? Can you please make this not real? Because I know it’s not, but for some reason I can’t wake up._ Every morning, he would race to Felix’s room, was this the day? No, still not awake, still stuck.

He would be in class and images of Felix's blank eyes would come to him and he couldn't breathe. He would sit in the dining hall, the loud din of people eating all around him and he would see a sudden splattering of red, _a giant gash had been through his chest!_, and he would choke on the dry, tasteless food. He would see a flash of dark hair from the corner of his eye, the clang of a blade, and he would look around frantically, but he couldn't see anything, a grey misty cloud was all around him. He tried to sleep, so he could wake up from this, but those moments just kept replaying again and again, and he couldn't stop, he was stuck in a whirlwind inside his mind. This nightmare SUCKED.

Weeks passed, and Sylvain began to wonder. Was Felix afraid in the end? Had it hurt? Was there anything he could have done differently? What if Sylvain had trained more, would he have have been strong enough to save Felix? What if he had paid more attention and dodged the axe himself? What if he had noticed the eerie quietness of the town and somehow avoided the ambush altogether? What if Mercedes had been with them, would she have been able to heal him in time? What if Byleth had sent the whole team, would that have been enough? Why wasn’t it him instead of Felix? Why had Felix saved him? “Please Goddess, please bring him back and take me instead.” he whispered every night. “I’ll do anything. Please.” He could cry in short bursts now, as long as no one was watching. But it was like a river slightly overflowing its banks. Just enough to take the edge off, as long as you didn't look into the endless swirling depths.

After a second month had passed, people started to smile around him. Acting normal again. They would pat his arm and ask _how are you doing?_ “I’m ok. Day by day you know.” he said with a small false smile. What was he supposed to say? That his chest was being crushed and the worst possible thing that could ever happen had happened, and somehow everyone else just kept moving, just kept eating and smiling and talking and Felix was not there and Sylvain’s life was already done. That some nights he cried and he felt like he would never stop? That some nights he woke up in so much panic and fear that he couldn’t sleep again for days? That even when he slept, it was fitfully, for a few hours, that he was having trouble telling what was real?

Eventually, anger came and burned clarity for a short while. What had he done to deserve this? Why had Felix broken his promise? He had PROMISED! It was an unbreakable vow, and Sylvain wanted to punch something, someone, anyone. Someone needed to pay for this. He needed to feel something other than rage and loneliness. Please. He knocked on Claude’s door one night and Claude had looked at him with sad eyes. “This is a mistake Sylvain.” Please. Please he had begged. I just need to feel. Please. Claude had relented and Sylvain saw only Felix. His dream, his love. But it was wrong, it wasn’t real and Claude had been right. This was a mistake, everything was wrong.

True love and happiness had been within his reach, and he had let it slip away. What if he had just been honest and told Felix how he felt? His last words to Felix had been _“Yeah I fucking see that”_ instead of _“Felix I love you forever and I always have and always will.''_ Was he fucking stupid? Did Felix die feeling alone? Did Felix die thinking Sylvain hated him or thought of him as a tool to be used? Did he know just how fucking much he was loved? Why hadn’t Sylvain told him? What had he been waiting for? Who cares if Felix had hated him after that, at least he would have known he was loved. Who cared what Margrave Gautier thought? None of it mattered. Things were so clear now, muddy water had settled crystal clear, but it was too late. Sylvain didn’t know this would happen. He didn’t know. He thought he had all the time in the world.

_\--POV: Ingrid Galatea--_

Ingrid was keeping an eye on him. She knew all too well the kind of pain he was in, she had experienced it firsthand. Time may heal all wounds, but there wasn’t enough time in the world for a wound like this to fully heal. A scar would always remain, sometimes aching, sometimes just a rough patch of skin to act as a daily reminder of what you had lost.

It was late at night, but she couldn’t sleep, and she knew Sylvain was still awake. He wasn’t sleeping too well lately. His eyes had dark circles, and when sparring sometimes he would miss obvious blocks, the lance clattering uselessly to the ground. He was going to get himself killed if he kept up like this, and Ingrid was afraid that Sylvain might actually be ok with that. She knocked on his door. “Sylvain, I think we need to talk,” she said softly.

Sylvain opened the door and gave her a weak smile. “Hey Ingrid, it’s kind of late isn’t it?”

Ingrid pushed her way inside. “It is. But it doesn’t appear that you were sleeping either, so that’s ok right?” She looked him over. “You look tired.”

Sylvain sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah I am. But not a sleepy kind of tired, you know? I just… every time I close my eyes, my mind starts racing. And it’s not really about anything, I just can’t stop it. I just need some stillness.” Ingrid sat on the bed next to him and held his hand. He didn’t pull away. “But I’m fine Ingrid. Ok, I’m getting by,” he said, and it was the same thing he said to everyone. No one really wanted to know the truth - they had all moved on, and she knew he hadn’t even STARTED to feel yet.

“Sylvain, you forget who you’re talking too. I know you loved him. And I also happen to know he loved you too. I’ve been through this as well, with Glenn, and there is no describing how devastating it is. But I know. And I’m here for you, you aren’t alone. Please, if you want to talk, I’m here,” she said.

“Ok,” he whispered, biting his lip. “I know Felix would be furious at me. He hated those that were tethered to the dead. And I’m trying. I promise, I don’t have a death wish. I just don’t really have a life wish anymore either, you know? I’m just not really sure what it is I’m doing. I’m really… uh… empty. Adrift.” he couldn’t look at her face.

“That’s ok. That’s normal. I promise it will get better.”

“Yeah I know. But I don’t want it to,” he said, finally looking at her.

“I know,” she said softly, and concern blossomed in her chest. “Just please be careful, I still care about you ok? A lot of people do.” She wished she could help him, do more. But there was nothing to be done. No magic words or actions. Nothing but waiting for the pain to fade, like the waves after a storm. She couldn’t lose anyone else. When would it be enough?

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

There was so much pain. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Felix tried to speak, tried to call for Mercedes to let her know he needed more healing, but he couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t speak. Oh Goddess, it hurt so much, he was definitely dying. _*No, you can’t die! Your promise! You can’t die without Sylvain!*_

“It hurts,” he whimpered.

And then a voice was by his ear. “I know,” it whispered, and it was definitely not Mercedes.


	10. The power of a crest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: drugging, kidnapping, torture, mental illness  
Sorry for the random OC!

_\--POV: Tarrenth Dantarin (OC)--_

Tarrenth Dantarin was born to the noble family Dantarin, a small group that had long ago branched off House Hyrm. They had sided with the Empire during the Hyrm Rebellion. Tarrenth had the misfortune of not only being the second son, but also being born without a crest. The Dantarin did not possess their own territory, and their residence was just inside the Empire border. Nevertheless, he was raised in relative luxury. His parents rarely spoke to him, and even the servants seemed to avoid him, almost as though they could see the twisted darkness that bubbled within. "He's an odd child," they would say. And Tarrenth knew he was odd. There was a sickness inside, a demon festering and poisoning his mind. He watched the glittering nobles and powerful crest-bearers around him, and Tarrenth felt like an insect skittering in the shadows, bitter and alone.

Then one day, he was blessed with a vision. His older brother had often complained of waking dreams (his parents called them “hallucinations”), and he received treatment from a special healer. But Tarrenth knew better - these were not hallucinations! They were gifts him from the Goddess! He never spoke of them to anyone; his parents would insist on “treatment” if they knew.

As an adult, his family sent him money every month, with the condition that he not live at home. They didn't want him around, and that was fine with Tarrenth, he had plans and dreams, and their revolting filthy faces were just in the way. He found himself amongst those that slither in the dark, but he was not accepted into the inner circle, he was not fully trusted. And so he relied and rumors and whispers. Apparently they had successfully transferred a crest from one person to another person - someone that already bore a crest! Imagine that, how greedy. How _despicable_. Tarrenth didn't need two crests, just one was enough. If he could just get one crest, his family would see who he truly was. He'd make them see.

A vision came to him that night, and everything became crystal clear. The Goddess was showing him the way. Someone else had received the crest meant for him - they had stolen it! He could take it back - it would be hidden within their body. If he could find it, he could put it within himself and the power would flow from the original crest-bearer into his own body. This was a sign, he was sure of it. A sign of his true fate, his _destiny_. He needed to get his hands on a crest-bearer and find the crest. HIS crest!

Money was not a problem. It was not limitless, but he saved his monthly stipend until he had what he needed to hire a highly acclaimed mercenary (a mage of some kind) and his group of men. He carefully crafted a letter and sent it to Garreg Mach, a school just crawling with nasty undeserving crest-bearers. The letter begged for help for the poor townsfolk, besieged by a "small group of bandits". He was hopeful that the group dispatched from the Monastery would have at least one crest-bearer amongst them. All he needed was one.

Imagine his surprise when he not only received a crest-bearer, but a MAJOR crest-bearer. Tarrenth could have wept with joy. Such a rare gift, he was truly blessed. The mercenary had demanded a huge bonus payment before turning him over (apparently the merc had lost a lot more men than expected, and had spent a fortune on healing items in order to keep the stupid man alive), but Tarrenth happily paid it. He licked his lips greedily as he looked over the unconscious man. He would have to be very careful not to kill him before he could find the crest. He needed him to be alive in order for the power transfer to be successful.

Tarrenth had never felt such desire - he wanted that crest more than anything. With a major crest, he could crush his older brother and his loathsome parents like ants. He could do anything.

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix’s eyes opened at the sound of squeaking metal. Every inch of his body hurt, and it felt like there was a giant boulder crushing his chest. It hurt to breathe, every breath a ragged gasp. His vision was blurred and he couldn’t swallow, his mouth and throat were parched.

Felix wasn’t sure what had happened, the last thing he could remember was the axe slicing towards Sylvain. He had thrown himself in the path in a desperate attempt to save the man he loved. Felix felt panic flowing through him. Had he succeeded? He must have, right? Felix was still alive so that meant Sylvain HAD to be alive. He wouldn’t dare break his promise.

He tried to move his arms, but something was binding them. His legs as well. Was he… shackled? _Huh, ok, this is bad, _he thought. There was a shadowy figure nearby muttering something. Felix blinked repeatedly, trying to bring him into focus. “Wh...what?” he managed to croak out. Ughh, it hurt so much to talk.

The man stepped closer. “I’ve waited so long for you.” He ran a finger down Felix’s jaw, and Felix flinched at how cold it was. “You’ve brought me my crest. The major crest of Fraldarius. Of course it is. It couldn’t be any less. Soon it will be mine.” The man’s voice was irritating and slimy feeling and Felix wanted to punch his face.

What had he said? Felix squinted. He was finding it extremely difficult to think.. “What?”

“Oh you heard me, good sir. You have brought me my crest, and I will take it from you. They are trying to hide the truth, but i'm not dumb, I KNOW the truth! I have seen it, it has been revealed to me! I will cut away until I find it, my crest hidden within you!” The man’s voice had gotten higher and faster the longer he spoke.

_Oh shit, he’s insane_, Felix thought with a shudder. “Doesn’t...no..,” Felix’s tongue feeling like a wad of cotton. “...like...that. Crazy.”

The man laughed and hissed at his face. “I’m no fool Fraldarius. I already told you. I will have it, it is already mine. It is my destiny.” The man held up a sharp blade of some sort and approached Felix. Felix gritted his teeth, prepared for what was to come. He figured he could handle torture. He was no stranger to pain, after all.

_\--POV: Tarrenth Dantarin (OC)--_

Tarrenth was growing frustrated. Months had passed and he had cut into Fraldarius time and time again. He had long ago mastered a minor heal spell and although it was never enough to keep up with the damage he inflicted, it was enough to keep Fraldarius alive. But he couldn’t find the damn crest! At this point, he was becoming confused - he wasn’t really sure what exactly he was looking for. Would it be a visible object? A sense of power? He had even tried transferring large amounts of blood, leaving Fraldarius limp and pale, on the edge of death. And still, he had no crest, no power. He was cutting deeper lately, and had taken to buying concoctions and elixirs from the local vendor as his own healing was no longer enough. He was bleeding money left and right and had NOTHING to show for it.

The only positive outcome so far was that Tarrenth had discovered how much he enjoyed inflicting pain on the weak. He enjoyed cutting slowly, the screams filling him with vigor. He was certain he would feel the same way with the power of a crest coursing through his body. He hungered for it.

The visions were coming faster now, they swarmed his head with ideas, but he couldn't grasp them enough to figure out what to do. He was pretty sure the crest must be in one of Fraldarius’ organs or within is skull (he had already searched everywhere else). But Fraldarius would die if he was wrong, and he couldn’t risk that. If only he knew exactly where to look.

And then one day he realized the solution was right there in front of him, why hadn’t he seen it? He needed another crest-bearer, just a minor, unimportant one this time. He would kill them and fully search their body for that damn crest. It would be a practice run for the real prize. Once he knew where to look, the rest would be easy.

Tarrenth contacted the mercenary again, but he had refused. Luckily, there were lots of unscrupulous people out there that would do almost anything for money. Despicable.

_\--POV: Bernadetta von Varley--_

Bernadetta had summoned every bit of courage she possessed for today. She was meeting Annette and Mercedes in town for what they mysteriously called “a girl’s day out”. The old Bernadetta would have hidden in her room. But Annie and Mercie had been so nice to her the last few months - always encouraging, praising, and full of kindness. Bernadetta isolated herself, but she didn’t actually want to be alone ALL the time. She really wanted to do this.

So she had left a few hours early, nervously winding her way to town. Stopping here and there to hide in a convenient bush, pet an adorable kitty, or just pace in circles, muttering. She would get there, she COULD do this! There were to meet in the town tavern, and despite her long meandering route, she was the first one there. She sipped a small glass of wine, hoping it would take the edge off her nervousness. But the bartender kept sneaking glances at her. _Was he going to kill her? Did he want to beat her senseless? Rob her? No Bernie, stop jumping to conclusions. He’s probably just trying to be nice._

The wine was making her feel warm. Hmm, this had been a good idea after all. She was feeling much more relaxed. She smiled at the bartender, and he leered back. _Eeek, what a scary look!_ Bernadetta pulled her wine closer, but it had fallen. Oh, her sleeve was wet. She tried to bring it to her face, but it was so far away, so heavy. She wanted to close her eyes, maybe if she just took a little nap… _what’s going on?!_.... No just a little nap and everything would be ok.

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix had been wrong. So very wrong. He couldn’t handle torture, no one could. It was endless, constant. There was no relief, only more pain. The man cut and ripped him open and then healed him back from the brink, just to start again. Felix found himself drifting in and out of awareness, sometimes in a dark cloud of agony, sometimes all too cognizant of every tiny movement of the blade. He wished he had never made that damned promise. He wished he could die.

On and on it went. It may have been weeks, months, years. Unrelenting, eternal. Had there ever not been pain? He knew he was getting weaker. Moments of clarity were growing fewer. Sometimes he could see Sylvain’s eyes, so soft and warm, watching him. He wanted to ask him if he could please release him from the promise. _Please, just this once._ But he couldn’t say the words.

And then one day, Sylvain spoke. “F...Fe… Felix? I...i...is that you?” His voice was different than what Felix remembered. It was higher and…. more feminine? The image of Sylvain’s face faded. No, this was wrong, the voice wasn’t Sylvain. Felix made a great effort to pry open one eye. _Oh that’s right, he was a prisoner._ But that voice hadn’t been the slimy twisted voice of his normal tormentor. There was a vague shape nearby, so blurry. Was that a girl? Another tormentor? No, another prisoner? Why? Was the pain inflicted on Felix seriously not enough, his tormentor needed to add a second victim?

“I...I…. Felix. Can you hear me? We….We all thought you were dead. I’m so...so….so sorry,” the girl continued, and suddenly Felix felt a glimmer of recognition. Oh no. It was that little rabbit of a girl with the purple hair. He couldn’t remember her name. Was it a B? B…. something. She had always seemed so fragile to Felix, so frightened, so shy. This would destroy her. He had to protect her.

He wanted to laugh at himself, as though he could protect anyone! Felix tried to open his mouth, but his jaw wouldn’t obey. He has to try, come ON! This was important, he needs her to get out of here! Finally, after countless efforts, his lips open. “Run,” Felix finally whispered.

“Oh no Bernie. What are you going to do, it’s Felix and he’s alive, at least he talked but he sure doesn’t look alive and he’s definitely not doing so good and are you next? What did you get yourself into?” The girl was babbling to herself.

“Run!” Felix repeated as loudly as he could, taking all his effort and still only a whisper.

Bernadetta fell silent. “Felix, I’m sorry but I can’t.. I’m tied up.” she said, her voice strangely clear and soft.

I’m sorry, Felix wanted to say, but there was nothing left. He just closed his eyes sadly, wishing he could close his ears as well.


	11. Confession

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain was sitting with Byleth and Ingrid in the dining hall, shoveling food into his mouth and minding his own business when Annette and Mercedes burst in, looking flustered and breathless. “Bernie’s missing!” Annette squeaked.

Sylvain rolled his eyes. “Did you look in her room?”

“_**Obviously**_, Sylvain! You think we’d be here before checking there? Shewassupposedtomeetusintownbutshenevershowed,” Annette was talking so fast her words were blurring together, “andnowshes GONE!”

Mercedes clasped her hands together and nodded. “Yes, as much as I hate to admit it, I fear something dreadful might have happened to her. She was really looking forward to today and I do not believe she would have missed it. Besides, the tavern owner didn’t seem to be fully forthright with us. He said he hadn’t seen anyone matching her description, but one of the other patrons told us that he saw a girl with purple hair there earlier.”

Ashe suddenly spoke up from the other side of the table. “What if she was kidnapped, like Flayn? Do you think it’s possible the Death Knight took her as well?”

An ominous silence fell, and then Byleth began scurrying to make search teams. Sylvain immediately volunteered, as he volunteered for every mission nowadays. The Professor frowned at him and Sylvain glared fiercely back, he WAS going. She couldn't stop him. But she didn’t argue, she just sighed and assigned Ingrid, Mercedes, and some others with him. The rest of the team was sent to carefully search the Monastery.

Ingrid was his self-appointed babysitter nowadays - always volunteering for the same missions. She kept a watchful eye on him, continually reminding him “_be careful, I care about you._” And Sylvain would nod and smile, but he really couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. So many things were like that now. Living took a lot of effort, he found, and he was already doing all he could, just putting one foot in front of the other. Dimitri had completely lost it and it seemed Felix had been right about him all along. But Sylvain just didn’t care. The boar could die or kill everyone, not his problem. He didn’t care about winning this war, about saving his house.

Rodrigue, Felix’s father, had showed up one day, and had barely even mentioned Felix. He followed Dimitri around like he was some kind of saint. Sylvain discovered he hated him; at least there was one feeling other than apathy he could experience. And then Rodrigue was dead, and Sylvain definitely didn’t care about that. Shortly thereafter, Dimitri re-emerged from the boar’s grasp. Good for him. Maybe they could even win this stupid war - after all, things were looking up. But still, Sylvain didn’t care. He couldn’t. Other than occasional outbursts of anger and hatred, it seemed he couldn’t feel anything at all.

******

The small group arrived at the tavern in question and Sylvain sauntered up to the bartender, turning on his charm. This, at least, was automatic, no effort needed. “Hey there, how’s it going? My friends and I are looking for a little mouse of a girl. She’s got purple hair and real quiet and cute. One of your guests saw her here earlier, and she hasn’t been seen since. We’re offering quite a nice reward for information, we could definitely make it worth your while,” he leaned in and smiled cordially.

The bartender’s eyes flickered away from Sylvain for just a tiny moment, and he answered too quickly, “Sorry lad, I’d love to help, but I haven’t seen her.”

Sylvain was usually pretty good at reading people. But this man was an open book and a filthy liar. A sudden surge of rage flashed through him, and it felt so good to feel something! He grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back against the wall. The man squealed and squirmed like a pig. Sylvain’s muscles flexed and held firm. “I know you’re lying, you piece of shit. I’ve got nothing left to lose, I’ll gladly snap your neck.”

Ingrid blustered at Sylvain’s side, but he ignored her. The man finally whined out a name, a minor noble that lived at the edge of the neighboring town. Sylvain loosened his grip enough that the man could breathe - his face had turned an alarming shade of red, and his tongue was sticking out. “Why Bernadetta? What does he want with her?”

“She’s got a crest ain’t she? He wasn’t too picky” the man croaked. Sylvain’s grip tightened again and the man’s eyes bulged. Sylvain felt the blood rushing to his head. Again with these fucking crests. If he could remove every crest from this Goddess-forsaken planet, he would gladly lay down what little was left of his crumbling life. Ingrid’s hand was on his arm then, and he let the man go. He collapsed to the floor with a thud. They returned outside to their waiting mounts. If they rode hard, they would make it to the next town before dark.

*****

The man was named Tarrenth, a noble from House Dantarin. He lived in a small run-down house on the edge of town, not really what one would expect from a nobleman. Sylvain knocked loudly on his door, and the man opened it the tiniest crack. Not really the type of manners one would expect from a nobleman either.

“Excuse me for arriving unannounced, but we have urgent business from Garreg Mach,” Sylvain said, smiling his best smile. “Could we come in to discuss it further?”

The man opened the door slightly further, and Sylvain subtly slid his foot into the doorway so he couldn’t slam it. “Uh… now isn’t a good time. No, no it’s very rude to just show up you know. Did you know that I’m a nobleman? You can’t just show up anytime, there are procedures for these things. Good day.” and he tried to slam the door, as Sylvain had expected.

Sylvain grabbed the edge of the door and the man’s eyes were wide. “Sorry, but I did mention this business is urgent, didn’t I? I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”

The man had no choice but to let them in. He led them to the main parlor, a small room with a few bookcases and a desk. Papers were scattered everywhere, and it didn't look like the room had been dusted since the beginning of time. The man was practically radiating nervousness - his fingers kept twisting together and his eyes darted around constantly. Sylvain saw that he had a dagger strapped to his waist, and Sylvain carefully adjusted his short spear, resting on his back, and slid it to his side. He glanced at Ingrid, hoping she would understand. Her lips were pursed, and she nodded slightly. 

“We’re looking for a missing noble, and were given your name.” Sylvain said, watching carefully, and positioning himself casually between Mercedes and Tarrenth.

The man started to squirm and squawk. It was almost fascinating how he writhed and whined, like a dying snake in human skin. Sylvain found himself taken aback and scowling in-spite of himself. What an unpleasant person. “No no, no girls here. Definitely not, who would tell you such a thing? They’re always out to get me, to make me look bad. No reason for it, I wouldn’t hurt a thing.”

Sylvain’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say it was a girl.” The man suddenly looked right at him, and hissed. “You won’t take them from me! It’s my crest, MINE!” and he lunged clumsily at Sylvain, the dagger gripped tightly in his hand. Sylvain easily parried. The man was definitely not a trained fighter.

“You’re no match for me. Put your weapon down and no one has to get hurt,” Sylvain said, dropping into a defensive stance. The man just screeched and stabbed again. Crazy bastard. Sylvain plunged his spear through the man’s chest. Tarrenth dropped to the floor, dead with a dumb, surprised look on his face. “Well, I warned you,” Sylvain said.

“That could have gone better, I was hoping to take him alive,” Ingrid sighed. “Alright, let’s split up and search the house. Hopefully she’s still here,” Ingrid said to the others and the team split up and flooded through the house, searching for Bernadetta. 

Sylvain calmly pulled his lance out of the man’s chest cavity, and ripped off a piece of his shirt to wipe off the gore. While the others searched the house, he rifled through the man’s desk, looking for anything that might prove useful to the Monastery. Was there any correspondence from Edelgard? Any mention of the Death Knight? He looked for quite some time, but there was nothing other than crazed drawings and scribblings. The work of a mad man. What was taking the rest of the team so long? This house was not that big.

And then Ingrid was at his side, and her face was as pale as ice. She gripped his arm, really tightly. “Ow, chill Ingrid. The blood isn't mine, I’m fine. Don’t look so worried,” he said. But she gripped tighter, her fingers digging into his arm. “What is your problem?” he asked, looking at her angrily. But he stopped at the look on her face. Her eyes were wide, and there was something terrible in them. He hadn’t seen that look since…. Well since Glenn had died, if he was being honest. Maybe she had looked that way for Felix too? He hadn’t really been paying attention. “Oh shit, is Bernie dead?” he asked.

Ingrid shook her head slightly, but didn’t open her mouth. Her whole body was shaking. “Come on Ingrid, what’s wrong? You’re starting to freak me out,” he said, a little worried now. Ok, he had actually never seen her look like this before.

Suddenly she grabbed both of his shoulders, and stared into his eyes. Her mouth opened and closed several times before the words started to come. “Sylvain. Sylvain, you…. You need to sit down,” she said, stuttering in a very un-Ingrid manner. Sylvain was fighting in internal battle of whether to start screaming at her or to sit calmly like she wanted. He wanted to scream, but being calm would probably get answers out of her more quickly.

He collapsed on the nearest chair. “Fine I’m sitting, what the hell is wrong with you?” He asked. Ingrid knelt on the floor in front of him, and gripped his knees.

“I need you to stay calm. Ok, everything that can be done is being done. Ok? Please, just stay here and be calm,” her words were dis-jointed, warbling, and her eyes were bouncing between the door and his face. She started to repeat the same words again, like some kind of weird mantra.

Whatever this was, it was bad, Sylvain was sure of that. "I'm calm, Ingrid. Ok, please take a deep breath and calm down yourself. You’re rambling. Stop this and spit it out."

She looked down, her fingers pushing so hard into his legs that it would definitely leave bruises. “They found him Sylvain, they found him! And he’s in bad shape, they tor…. They tortured him and he’s in really bad shape, but Mercedes is doing everything she can. And Sylvain… I’m so sorry. So very very sorry, I thought he was dead. He WAS dead, there’s just no way he could have survived, but he did, and now…. I’m so sorry.” She was sobbing, and Sylvain was scared for her. He’d never seen Ingrid so upset. He leaned forward and held her in his arms. He might not care about himself, but he still didn't like seeing his friend like this.

“Hey it’s ok Ingrid. But I can’t understand you, you aren't making any sense. Whatever it is, it’s ok.” he said, rubbing his hand on her back, and feeling a searing pain in his heart. This is how he used to comfort Felix.

As if she could read his mind, she said, “Fe….. It’s Felix… ” That was weird, how did she know he was thinking of Felix? Of course, he spent most of his time thinking about Felix.

“What?” he asked. But Ingrid was crying too hard to speak. She was upset… someone was hurt… tortured? Bernadetta, no … she had said “_him_”. Felix… What? “Felix is dead Ingrid,” he said.

Ingrid shook her head. “No...no…. oh Goddess, he’s so hurt.”

There was a tickling at the back of his mind and Sylvain’s hands tightened. Ingrid cried out in pain, he was squeezing too hard. He released her immediately and stood up, but his legs wouldn’t hold him and he fell. “Fe… Fe…?.” he spluttered, trying to stand again. And there were arms around him, he pushed them off, screaming, and running, stumbling, falling, running through the house until he saw a group huddled around something, someone. And Mercedes’ face was pale with exertion, her lips chanting her biggest healing spell and Sylvain pushed through to be at her side and look down.

And there he was. His world, his love. Everything. “Sylvie...I…I ...kept promise” Felix whispered.

******

  
It had been four long days, and still Felix had not opened his eyes again. After the first two intense days where it had been touch and go, the healers finally said it was just a matter of time. He would live, just give him time. So he waited. People tried to get him to leave, to eat, to bathe, to sleep, and he snarled at them. He knew he sounded like the Boar, and he was sure his eyes were just as wild, but surely they could understand? He couldn’t possibly leave. Not now, not ever. Sometimes he would pass out from exhaustion, and his head would jerk awake after he had the necessary amount of sleep to survive. But he never let go of Felix’s hand, never left his side.

He stared at Felix’s precious face. He was so very skinny now, but he was still the most wonderful thing Sylvain had ever seen. His skin was terribly pale and his dark shiny hair was dull and lifeless. Sylvain traced his eyes along the cuts, bruises, and scars on Felix’s exposed arms. There were countless, criss-crossing over each other. They were completely covering his body and Mercedes had spent hours and hours applying a special ointment that would hopefully help them heal without leaving permanent scarring. It was too late for some of them. This was a dream and nightmare come true, all wrapped up into one. He just kept staring, willing this to be true, to be real. Please let this be real. And he whispered his own selfish prayer, again and again “I love you Felix. Please come back to me. I'm so sorry. I love you.”

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

For once, Felix was having a pleasant dream. Sylvain was there, holding him. And he was telling him that he loved him. And really looking at him. Only him. Over and over again, as he kissed him. Ahh, he didn’t want to wake up from this dream.

And Sylvain was holding him, tighter now, hotter, ooh,_ too tight, too hot. Owww_, it was searing, roaring. He moaned in agony, his body was on fire, that unrelenting pain, everywhere. Usually it was sharp and terrible, but now it was hot, replaced with fire. _He was burning alive!_

“Shh, shh Felix,” he heard a soft voice. It was a soft sweet voice, it sounded like Mercedes. “I’m sorry Felix, I know it burns, I promise it will feel better soon.” Felix trusted Mercedes, she had always been kind to him. Of course she couldn’t really be here, this was his subconscious or something. But he steadied his breathing, and tried to open his eyes.

To his shock and confusion, it WAS Mercedes. She was standing over him, smiling down. “Am I dead?” he whispered. She must be a chosen one by the Goddess, he thought.

“No, no, you’re alive Felix. Although you were certainly almost dead,” Mercedes brought her face closer. “I know it burns everywhere Felix, but that’s the healing spells and medicinal ointment. Do you feel sharp pain anywhere anymore? I can help with that, I want to do all I can to help..."

Felix was terribly confused. Why was Mercedes helping him? Had his tormentor hired her? What? He just blinked stupidly at her. And then he heard another voice, and another face was next to Mercedes. A face with red hair, and deep caramel eyes and tears and pain. Felix squeezed his eyes shut. So this wasn’t real.

“Hey Fe,” Sylvain said softly. “Hey you’re safe now ok, I promise. And you know I don’t break promises right? Just like you.”

Someone was holding his hand. It was warm and comfortable and familiar. Could this be real? He opened his eyes again. “A dream,” he said, as firmly as he could, and shut his eyes again.

Sylvain laughed. “No dream, Fe. Real as can be. Unless we’re both in the same dream….” he trailed off.

Felix opened his eyes again. “That’s…. Im…. imposhible.” he said, finally. His tongue felt like lead, it was so hard to move. He closed his eyes again, and slept.

******

Felix opened his eyes. Someone was holding his hand. Again. Hadn’t this happened before? He turned his head slightly, and lightning bolts of pain flashed through his skull. He groaned and suddenly Sylvain’s face was in front of him. “Don’t move Felix, just rest. You’re still healing.”

“Sylvain…” he whispered. So it wasn’t a dream? This was real. For sure, this felt real. His head felt clearer than it had in months. “Is Bern.. Bernie?”

“She’s fine, he didn’t touch her. Goddess, Felix don’t worry about anyone else right now.” Sylvain said, and his hand was touching Felix’s face.

Felix’s nose crinkled. “Sylvain, you stink. You stink so bad. Go. go… bathe. You smell… awful” he grimaced.

Sylvain’s laughter was light and musical, and so beautiful. “Sorry Fe, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be here. Forever. I can't let you out of my sight again.”

Felix tried to process the words, but his mind kept drifting pleasantly, he was finding it very difficult to concentrate. “Forever is over. Go… go take a bath,” Felix said. Sylvain laughed again and leaned in closer to Felix’s face.

“Ok I will and then I’m coming right back ok? I promise, I won’t be gone long. But I have to tell you something first, it's really important. I need you to know. I love you Felix. I love you so much. And I know you might hate me now, or be disgusted by me, and that's ok, I just wanted you to know. It’s you, and it’s always been you. I love you forever.” and Sylvain squeezed his hand and disappeared from sight.

“What the fuck?” Felix whispered once he heard Sylvain close the door. So this WAS still a dream. Felix closed his eyes again, and slept.


	12. Until we die

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

The first few weeks of recovery were, in some ways, worse for Felix than the actual torture had been. Most of his physical wounds were healed, but the scar tissue could only be healed by a special balm that needed to be applied daily, and would take months to fully resolve. Some of the deeper scars would never heal. He had also lost vast amounts of muscle, stamina, and blood - things that couldn’t be restored by any spell. Those things would take time. And Felix was not a patient man. Every day he spent in the infirmary, he could feel people’s eyes upon him. Gawking at him, staring at him, pitying him. He hated it.

Ashe came almost every day and would read him foolish stories about knights. Felix had already heard them all, his brother used to read them to him when he was young. But Ashe looked so earnest that Felix didn’t have the heart to send him away. Dedue stopped by with flowers (which Felix didn’t particularly care about) and special spicy snacks (which were much appreciated). Annette came and flitted around the room, pretending to dust or some nonsense while she sang silly songs to lift his spirits. Mercedes came to **actually** clean, and check on his healing. Bernadetta brought him little hand-sewn charms and handkerchiefs, which he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do with. Lysithea would bring cake with “special healing magic” that he suspected was just bullshit. Byleth and Seteth tried to stop in several times "to talk", but Felix feigned exhaustion so they would leave. He really didn't want to talk.

The first time Ingrid visited, she wouldn't leave the doorway, like she didn’t deserve to be in the same room with him or something. Tears poured down her face, and she begged, BEGGED for forgiveness. Felix was so over it, he just wanted her to go away. He finally snapped at her, "Ingrid. I'm only going to say this once, so you better listen." Ingrid stared at him, as though his next words were her lifeline; he was the gravity holding her to the ground and she might float away lost at any moment. Felix wondered if he said the wrong thing, would it break her forever?

"Did you torture me?" Ingrid shook her head, hard, a pained look on her face. "No? Oh then you must have purposely left me to die?" Again, she shook her head. "No to that as well. Then surely you pushed me in front of the axe, knowing I was to be struck down, am I right?" She shook her head again and started to speak. "Quiet!" he barked, needing to get this out. "You've done nothing wrong. It's not your fucking fault. Anyone would have thought I was dead. **I** thought I was dead. You didn't know, and it's not your fault and I'm thankful every day it worked out like it did, because you saved Sylvain, and I would have died for real if it had been him. Or you."

Felix's couldn't look at her anymore. "Thank you. Now get the hell out of my room," he finished meekly. Ingrid closed the distance between them, and kissed him on the forehead before leaving. _Ughhh, this was the worst ever._

But he was wrong, because then it got even worse. The Boar was there, but it was Dimitri again. "You're back," he said and Dimitri nodded with a pitiful look. He pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed, his large frame perched precariously on the flimsy chair. It seemed to be shuddering under the pressure, much as the air crackled with tension. Felix wondered idly which would snap first. "Sylvain already told me about my father, I already know. You don't need to be here. In fact, I'd really prefer that you NOT be here."

But then Dimitri broke down crying, and like Ingrid, he apologized, over and over again for the loss of Rodrigue. Felix couldn't look at his face. His friend, _His KING_, sitting there, crying and asking for forgiveness. "Dimitri," Felix finally said, and Dimitri opened his eye wide at that... Felix hadn't called him Dimitri in years. Felix could feel that every muscle in his face was tight, clenched. "Dimitri, I swear to the Goddess if I hear one more person apologize to me, I will punch them in the face."

Dimitri made a startled laughing sound. "I... I don't think you can actually punch yet." 

"You want to fucking try me?" Felix tried to lift his arm, but to his horror, the Boar was right. "Fine then, I'll spit on you. Violently." Dimitri had laughed again.

Felix sighed. This was so exhausting and awful. "It's ok alright, I'm fine now. So get out of here and go do something. Like whatever it is Kings do, go do that. Do it better. Leave me alone."

"I promise you, we will win this war. Not for the dead, but for the sake of our people and the future," Dimitri said solemnly, and Felix felt as though he had smashed him in the chest with those words. He blinked back sudden tears. It was all he had ever wanted to hear from Dimitri’s lips.

Dimitri stood to leave, gripping the chair tightly and the chair finally whispered it's death cries and broke. Felix gaped at him incredulously and Dimitri grabbed the chair, mumbling more apologies and blushing. He paused at the door, chair in arms, and added, "Felix, please if there is anything I can do, do not hesitate to mention it. I will be back tomorrow," he finished

"Wait I have a request!" Felix had quickly replied. "Don't you **dare** come back again. I can't stand the sight of your face." Dimitri pretended not to hear, and left the room. And then he had the nerve to come back the next day, new chair in tow.

But then it got even worse! _So much worse!_ Sylvain. Sylvain was smothering him with affection. He almost never left the room. He kept staring at him, and touching him, and smiling that damned honest open smile. His eyes held only warmth. He chatted happily about inane topics, while Felix lay with eyes closed, lulled into a soothing zone of relaxation by the sound of his voice.

Sylvain refused to sleep elsewhere, falling asleep uncomfortably in the chair next to Felix's bed, until some kind soul took pity and brought in a second cot. Felix was secretly thankful for that. He was strong when he was awake. He could see he was safe, he KNEW he was safe. But asleep, he lost control. His dreams were dark and full of pain, and Sylvain was there each time he woke, screaming and thrashing in fear, panic, hands grasping frantically for safety. Multiple times each night, he was always there. And Felix couldn’t say anything, he didn’t know how to thank him. He hated being weak more than anything. Sylvain didn’t push him to talk, he just squeezed his hand and said soft comforting words of protection.

Felix could remember the dream, so clear, almost real, when Sylvain had told him he loved him, and this was a different kind of torture. Sylvain hadn’t mentioned it again; Felix was pretty certain at this point that it had just been a dream. It was hard having him there, but it would be so much worse without him.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain was trying to be patient. Really he was. But Felix hadn't responded to his declaration of love, and Sylvain wasn't sure if Felix had been too delirious at the time and hadn't heard him, or if this was his way of saying _drop it_. Sylvain knew how much stress Felix was under, and he didn’t want to add to it. So he mustered every ounce of willpower he possessed, and decided to give Felix some time to recover before placing another burden upon his shoulders.

Sylvain spent all the time he could with Felix, despite his weak complaints to “_go away, leave me the hell alone!_” Felix was handling things pretty well on the surface, and his visitors all whispered to Sylvain, “He’s so strong!” and Sylvain nodded. He knew Felix was showing a brave face during the daytime. But in the dead of night, the shadows ran amok and Sylvain was always there, doing whatever he could to help. His own sleep was suffering greatly, but it didn’t matter. He would be there for Felix forever.

And then one day, the stoic facade broke mid-day. Ashe had brought a steak from the dining hall and was reading from a book happily and Sylvain was smiling at Felix, he knew how much he loved steak. Felix picked up the steak knife, and suddenly his hand froze. His eyes widened and his face blanched white and the knife clattered to the plate. Thinking fast, Sylvain knocked over his glass of water, and stood between Ashe and Felix. “Aw man, Ashe, can you go grab a towel? Clumsy me, I’ve made a mess.” Ashe nodded and left the room, none the wiser. Sylvain knew Felix wouldn’t want anyone to see his weakness. Strength was everything to him.

He grabbed the knife and put it in one of the side cabinets. Then he took Felix’s hands tightly and put his face directly in front of Felix, almost touching noses. He chanted “It’s ok Fe, you’re safe, I’m here, look at me, see me.” Felix was staring into the distance, whimpering and shaking. Finally, Sylvain felt him go still, and he focused on Sylvain’s face.

Felix looked down, embarrassed. “S...sorry.” he said softly, “I’m… I'm so damn weak.” Sylvain felt a bubble of rage within him and clenched his teeth. He wished he could reincarnate Tarrenth and kill him again and again, for making Felix suffer so. He had gotten off too easily, while Felix was left here, broken into so many pieces and trying to patch himself together and look whole, with nothing more than feisty glares and snarky remarks.

“Nothing to be sorry about. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known,” was all Sylvain said, as Ashe returned with a towel and a new glass of water.

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix hated losing control. He was doing everything he could to keep it together, and all it had taken was one stupid fucking knife to break him in half and leave him blubbering like a baby. _How weak, how pathetic,_ he thought.

It was the following day, and Sylvain was sitting with him like always. "Sylvain… do you still have that knife?" he asked, his hands twisting the sheet in front of him. He felt ashamed of himself.

Sylvain sat silently for a few minutes before shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "I do. Why?"

"I want to try again," Felix said simply.

Sylvain was looking at him uneasily. "Uh, Fe, I don't think that's such a good idea."

Felix growled and said the words that had been festering away inside of him, filling him with worry and fear. "Really? Not a good idea? I reacted like that to a steak knife Sylvain, how do you think I'm going to handle a sword?"

Understanding dawned on Sylvain's face and he looked pale. If Felix couldn't use his sword... It was too impossible and terrible to consider. It would destroy him. "Oh." Sylvain stood up and paced through the room a few times, and Felix could almost see the gears in his head turning. Unspoken words drifted between then, and Felix hands were clenched into fists.

"Are you going to help me or not?" He finally snapped.

"Ok look Felix, I really don't want you to do this," Felix started to interrupt but Sylvain continued, "let me finish! I know you're going to do it anyways no matter what I say. And I'd rather it be me than someone else. So I'll help, but I have one condition."

"What is it?" Felix asked.

"You know Byleth and Seteh have been coming to talk with you, and you always send them away? I want you to talk to them. I'll stay with you if you want, or leave, whatever you want. And I'll help you with... with the knife. And then your sword too. Deal?"

Felix flustered angrily. "I don't want to TALK Sylvain, how the hell is that going to help me?"

Sylvain looked at him, his eyes full of worry and hurt. "Please. For me."

Felix sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He was getting a headache, he wasn't good at this kind of thing. Sylvain had been nothing but patient with him, and he knew his friend was worried about him. Felix really didn't want to talk, he couldn't see how that could possibly help anything. But if it would make Sylvain feel better, and make him willing to help with the knife... "Fine. Get the knife."

Sylvain moved slowly. He carefully brought the knife to the edge of the bed, inching forward. He was staring at Felix so hard, Felix felt like he might drill holes through his head to see more clearly.

They progressed painfully slowly, day after day. Every time Felix's vision would start to go black, his breath catching, Sylvain would pull back the knife and center himself in Felix's vision, holding him tight and safe.

After a couple of weeks, Felix was able to eat steak again, with only a few pauses, his wide eyes desperately seeking Sylvain. And Sylvain was always there.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Felix was cleared to return to his dorm room after one month in the infirmary. He would still need to return daily for ongoing therapy (both physical and mental), but at least he could sleep in his own bed. Sylvain escorted him to his room that night and Felix shuffled next to him, trying to walk on his own the whole way. But the walk was long and Felix was leaning on his arm by the time they reached the room. Sylvain wanted to pull him closer, but he knew he would recoil.

Once in the room, Felix flopped onto the bed with a sigh. He glanced at Sylvain and the door. “I’m here now. You can...” he paused for a moment and Sylvain wondered what he was thinking. “You can go.”

Sylvain hesitated. There was no way he was leaving - Felix still had nightmares every night and Sylvain was not about to leave him alone. He’d sleep on the floor outside his door if he had to. Felix would never ask him to stay. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back, trying to look casual and relaxed. “Hey Fe, you know, I haven't slept alone in so long, I just seriously don't think I can do it! Can you do your old friend a huge favor and let me bunk here? I can sleep on the floor. Just until I get used to it again?”

He knew Felix would probably say no, probably yell at him to get out. But he didn’t. He looked down at his hands instead, and said softly “I'm sure you must have a girl or two that would be happy to join you."

Sylvain winced, but Felix wasn't looking at him. "Sorry Fe, no one comes to mind. I must be off my game, huh? Come on, pretty please? For your best bud? I'll stay out of your way."

Felix sighed. "I … I guess. If you need to. I wouldn’t hate that.”

Sylvain wondered how he could look so strong and fragile at the same time. His shoulders were tense, like he might either punch him in the face at any moment or burst into tears. Sylvain suddenly decided he couldn’t wait any longer. This wasn’t really what he had been planning, and he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. Impulsively plunging ahead without thinking had never really worked out well for him, but it was who he was, and he couldn’t stop now.

"Ok, I know this probably isn’t a good time, and I'll stop if you want me to, but I really want to talk," Sylvain said.

Felix shrugged. "Fine, talk. I won't stop you."

Sylvain took a step closer. "Do you remember that day when you told me to take a bath, and I... I... well, er, I confessed to you?" Felix looked up at him and his eyes widened. _Shit, did he want him to stop?_ He paused a moment, and the silence was unbearable, so he quickly continued. "Well I just wanted you to know I really really meant it, and I wondered how you felt about that? And you know, like I said, it's ok if you hate me now, or if you want me to never mention it again, or whatever. I'm fine with whatever you want, I just...I love you. And I just wanted you to know. And maybe know, like what you... what you think?" Sylvain finished sheepishly. _Wow flawless delivery Sylvain, truly a master of romantic dialogue,_ he thought, incredibly embarrassed at himself. The one time he really meant it, and that was the best he could do?

Oh shit, there were tears, Felix was crying. Fuck, he’d screwed up again. He hadn't seen Felix cry since his brother had died. He hadn't cried for his father, or during his painful recovery, during his nightmares, or anything. Oh no, was this the end? "Oh Goddess Felix, don't cry, it's ok, you don't have to answer, I won't ever mention it again. I'm really sorry!"

Had he just destroyed everything? Sylvain reached his shaking hand to Felix's face, to wipe the tears away. And then Felix was holding his fingertips against his cheek with his own hand. Sylvain gasped a little at the touch. Felix's tears rolled over his fingers, and down his palm. His skin was soft and warm.

"I thought that was a dream," Felix said, his eyes staring into Sylvain's soul, with a look he had never seen Felix make before. His heart skipped a few beats, hell it might have even stopped for a moment or two there.

"Uh.... nope, not a dream. What... what do you think?" Sylvain leaned closer, allowing his palm to softly cradle Felix's cheek. Felix hadn't pulled away, that was a good sign, right? His hand was still pressed lightly to Sylvain's, holding him in place.

Felix practically spit out his answer, it was low and angry. "I think you're a fucking idiot. How dare you tell me you love me, when all you do is flirt with others all day and night? I’ve seen how many girls have gone to your room. How dare you say that when I'd already locked away all my hope? When I already knew I’d never have a chance? When I can't even look at you because you're so fucking perfect, and and..." Felix was crying harder now, and Sylvain leaned in further and gently kissed him. Now it was Felix’s turn to gasp, and Sylvain pulled back immediately.

"S...sorry," he said. "Sorry, I'm an idiot. And uh… I’ve stopped flirting, really, haven’t even looked at a girl in months. I mean, I guess I look at them, but not LOOK at them, you know?” Sylvain stopped abruptly. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure even Dimitri next door could hear. _Was this real? Was he reading the room correctly? Did Felix really feel the same?_ “Uh... can I kiss you again?" he asked.

Felix looked exasperated, but he nodded and leaned into Sylvain's lips. Felix’s lips were wet with salty tears and they fit together so well, warmth and wetness combining until it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Sylvain had never felt experienced a kiss like this before. It was something completely new and different and absolutely fucking amazing. Sylvain felt the heat spreading throughout his body, and he mentally pulled himself back. Slowly. slowly. Felix was still so weak. "Was that ok?" Sylvain asked gently, an edge of desire to his voice.

"No," Felix said, and his lips twisted into a smirk, "You stopped." He was so beautiful, so damned beautiful.

"Felix, seriously, I..." Sylvain paused, collecting himself. "Ok, I'm gonna do this right." He stood up straight and clasped Felix's hands tightly in his own. "Felix Hugo Fraldarius, I love you. I have for a long time. A really long time. And I never told you because I was afraid. Afraid of my parents, of society, of the future, and most of all, afraid of you. Afraid you would hate me. Afraid that you could never love someone like me. Because I’m a fool, a complete and total fool, and I'm sorry it took me so damn long to come to my senses. I love you Felix, forever and always. I love you."

Felix was still crying, gasping little hitches in his throat. "It's about fucking time," he said and pulled Sylvain in for another kiss.

This one was harder, their teeth clacked and tongues slid along each other, exploring, eager to taste every inch. Sylvain pulled him back after just a few blissful moments. There were sparks going directly from his mouth down his chest to his groin, and he wanted so much more. He needed to cool off, Felix was not physically ready for this yet. Mercedes would kill him if he brought Felix back half dead from a lust-filled night. He panted and watched Felix with hooded eyes for a moment. "What about you?" he asked.

"What do you think idiot, isn't it obvious?" Felix asked and looked away, blushing. Feeling more confident, Sylvain leaned closer again, pulling Felix's face back and staring into his eyes.

"I want to hear you say it," he said, grinning wickedly.

Felix slapped his hand away and suddenly stood up. "If you keep messing around, I'll... I'll…”. Felix paused, and ran his hand through his hair. He looked away for a moment, with one hand on his hip, considering. “Alright. Ok, Fine! Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once," he said, his tone sharp and full of feeling.

He stepped forward quickly (he was still so fast!), and Sylvain stumbled backwards into the wall. Felix threw his arms up on the wall on either side of Sylvain's face, trapping him, and Sylvain felt his chest thudding loudly. What was this? What was he doing? This was ridiculously hot. Felix grabbed his chin with one hand and stared intently into his eyes. His face was blushed a pretty pink and his amber eyes were burning with fire, and Sylvain tried desperately to memorize every inch of his beautiful face, every second of this perfect moment. "You're my whole life Sylvain. Let's stay together until we die. I love you," and then Felix crashed his lips into Sylvain's, hard, aggressive, hungry, as though he had been waiting for this moment his whole life, and it couldn't come fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!!  
I will never not S-support Felix, his kabedon gives me life <3


	13. You belong to me - (RIP Claude)

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

Felix’s recovery was slow and arduous. As time passed, his physical scars healed, with only the deepest and most severe remaining. The most visible was the first - it blazed red and angry from his left shoulder down across to the lower right of his stomach. Felix didn't mind it - it even brought a small smile to the edge of his lips. A small price to pay for Sylvain's life.

The other scars were fainter, but much uglier to Felix's eye. They twisted all across his body, faint lines like worms writhing, no aim or purpose, just sick reminders to him of weakness and pain. He covered them as much as he could, wearing high-collared shirts with long sleeves and pants. Much to Felix's chagrin, Sylvain would kiss them and tell him they were beautiful and to not be ashamed. But Sylvain said everything about him was beautiful and therefore was obviously a blind fool and not to be trusted in such matters. The only noticeable scar on his face was a long straight slash along his right jaw, and Felix was irritated to find himself sometimes running a finger along it absently.

If only the emotional wounds were as easy to heal. The feeling of cold against his skin, the squeak of a metal door, a shadow flickering in the hallway - demons lurked everywhere. Felix felt jittery, on edge, almost all of the time. Always gritting his teeth, jaw set firm, always fighting to maintain control. When he failed, Sylvain was always there to bring him back. Felix absolutely despised relying on another for strength, but he would begrudgingly admit that if he had to rely on someone, there could be no one better than Sylvain.

The fact that Sylvain loved him… it was so unbelievable to him that it didn't seem real. Sylvain was warm, endlessly patient, smart, kind, charming, gorgeous, and could probably be with anyone he wanted, and somehow, he picked Felix? Felix caught himself sometimes staring at Sylvain in awe. _This man… really loved him?_ It was too much.

Sylvain kept his word and worked daily with him on his biggest obstacle: his reaction to metal blades. The irony of Garreg Mach's most skilled and enthusiastic swordsman being afraid to pick up a sword was not lost on Felix. He began training again after basically dragging himself to the training grounds and throwing himself on the ground and refusing to leave until Byleth relented. The first time he lifted the wooden training sword, it clattered heavily to the ground, and he saw Sylvain looking at him fearfully. Felix was torn between screaming and crying, but neither would help, so he just sighed and picked it up again, this time with both hands.

Every day, he worked as much as he could. Mercedes and Byleth kept him on an aggravatingly short leash and Sylvain constantly cautioned him to go slower, give himself "_time_". It was like trying to slow the waves of the sea. Felix was relentless, he would not be held back. He could feel himself growing stronger, day by day.

Eventually Sylvain agreed to spar with him, but he wasn’t very good with the sword and Felix was soon able to beat him. Byleth offered to step in, and Felix was excited by the challenge. It took only a few blows for her to have him cornered, her sword at his throat. He grimaced at her in frustration, but her gaze was expressionless. His vision narrowed. The face was uncaring, cold. He could feel the blade at his throat, cutting in slightly, sharp and unforgiving. His breathing grew uneven. _Soon the man would move the blade and it’s maddening dance across his skin would begin. Cutting, tearing, the pain would never stop. He was trapped in this hell forever._

  
_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

Sylvain watched Byleth defeat Felix easily. And then Felix’s eyes widened. The sword fell from his hands, and he stumbled backwards. Sylvain jumped up and ran to him, pushing Byleth out of the way. He grabbed Felix’s face in his hands, but Felix wasn’t seeing him, his eyes were glazed over. He was whispering “nononononono”, shaking his head and taking gasping breaths. Sylvain held him in a tight hug like he had when there were children, stroking his head and back and whispering comforting words. After a few minutes, Felix’s body slowly relaxed and his breathing slowed. Then he pushed Sylvain away. “I’m...I’m ok.” he said raggedly.

Byleth was watching with concern. Felix glanced at her, and at his sword on the ground. He picked it back up and went into a defensive stance. “Again,” he said.

“No way!” said Sylvain. “You need a break.”. Felix had been having fewer attacks lately, but sparring was always the most difficult for him. Sylvain wished fervently that they lived in a world where Felix could put down his blade once and for all, to put this endless war behind them. Of course it was a silly dream, Felix would wither away into a miserable ball of grumpiness and probably die from boredom in such a world. But a man could dream, couldn't he?

“Don’t coddle me! If I react like this in a battle, I’m dead. And if I can’t fight, I might as well be dead,” Felix snapped. “So. Do. It. Again. I need to become stronger. I must.”

Sylvain sighed and threw up his hands. This damn stubborn man was going to be the death of him. Byleth nodded, and the battle began anew.

*****

Sylvain still slept on the floor in Felix's room. The nightmares came every night, and Sylvain wondered if they always would. But he was there, and he would crawl up next to Felix and Felix would cling to him tightly until he fell asleep again. One night, Sylvain was especially tired and fell asleep holding Felix rather than climbing back down to his makeshift bed. The moon was shining through the window when he awoke, and Felix's face was near his, staring at him with a soft expression. Sylvain yawned, "... Sorry must have passed out here…" and started to pull away.

Felix grabbed his wrist. "Ugh, it's cold. You got me used to your body heat."

Sylvain was fluent in Felix. This was as close as he would ever get to a clearly worded invitation: _Stay. Sleep here with me._ Sylvain slowly smiled and settled back in, wrapping his arms around Felix. From then on, they slept together every night. They had not yet progressed further than kissing and snuggling, but Sylvain was fine with taking things slow while Felix healed. Although it was quite a challenge to his restraint to wake up with Felix curled in his arms, hair splayed out, and face relaxed and peaceful.

******

Sylvain was a nervous wreck when Felix was returned to active duty. Their first battle, Sylvain stayed close to him, ever watchful. But he had to admit that Felix was strong again. Probably even stronger than Sylvain. Felix would glance at him sometimes, lips pressed firmly in concentration, knuckles white, gripping his sword a little too tightly. Sylvain would give a reassuring smile and nod, and Felix would breathe and continue.

At the end, they looked at each other, soaked in blood and sweat, and they had smiled honest smiles, with no masks or walls between them. And Sylvain decided right then and there that he was done being patient.

That night they headed to Felix’s room - Sylvain’s room had remained untouched for quite a while now. Inside, Sylvain pulled Felix close and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. Felix relaxed into him, making a soft contented sound and leaning against Sylvain's chest. Sylvain brushed his fingers along Felix’s hair. He had cut off the dull ends, and the hair now fell just above his jaw. As usual, it was tied up in a crazy messy ponytail that defied the laws of gravity.

Sylvain nibbled gently on Felix’s bottom lip, until his mouth opened with a soft moan. He trailed kisses by his ear and down his neck, breathing in his scent: leather and steel and pine needles, it was heavenly. Felix eagerly pulled Sylvain's face back to his, lips meeting again, always hungry for more, always aggressive and impatient. He pushed his tongue into Sylvain’s mouth, and Sylvain groaned. Sylvain brought his hands lower, tracing down the strong muscles lining Felix’s back, lightly dancing over the many scars. He ended on his hips, grabbing and pulling him in closer. He heard Felix make a small gasp, and he smiled. Yes, he was done waiting.

He guided Felix to the bed and they lay beside each other, kissing deeply, wet and messy, arms and legs entangled. Sylvain felt burning desire fill his body at every touch, every kiss, every whispered moan. He couldn’t get enough, he wanted to feel him everywhere at once. Suddenly Felix broke free and spoke. His voice sounded rough and uncomposed, not the usual sharp Felix. “Uhm, Sylvie… when we…. go to the next step,” and he stopped.

Sylvain blinked at him and poked his cheek. “Keep going,” he said.

“S...se...s…” Felix stuttered.

Sylvain felt his heart swell. This was adorable. How could Felix be so tough and hot, and not able to say this word? “Sex?” he asked.

Felix nodded, and his face was flushed all the way to his ears. “I don’t, I mean, I’ve never … done it. Ok? so you will have to … you know…. take charge.” Felix covered his face, apparently overcome with mortification.

Sylvain chuckled. “Well I’ll gladly lead Fe, but just so you know, I’ve only been with one person. It was a guy, but still, I’m no expert.” He spoke lightly, without really thinking.

Felix stiffened beside him. “What?” His voice was menacing, all hint of embarrassed nervousness gone. _Oh shit._

“Uh… when you were, you know… dead. I … just one time… With Claude…. I was thinking of you!” Sylvain whined.

Felix sat up, and grabbed Sylvain’s collar and pulled his face close to his own, a strange, dark expression on his face. “You’ve only been with one other person, and it was a fucking GUY?” Sylvain nodded dumbly. “What about all those girls in your room at night?”

“Just kissing,” Sylvain whispered.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and he growled, “Well now, that pisses me off quite a bit, you know. I might have to kill Claude, he should keep his fucking hands away from you.”

Sylvain gasped. Felix was joking…. Right? Was he jealous? His eyes were flashing dangerously. Shit, RIP Claude. Felix suddenly straddled Sylvain. Sylvain wasn’t sure how exactly Felix managed to look down and glower at him, since Sylvain was taller, but so it was. He pulled roughly at Sylvain’s shirt, and the seam ripped, exposing Sylvain’s sculpted chest. Sylvain gasped, “That was my best shirt!”

Felix smirked and brought his lips to Sylvain’s ear, “I prefer you without.” Shit! Sylvain felt like he was melting. Felix was holding Sylvain’s arms firmly above his head - he was so freaking strong again. Sylvain probably could have broken free, but his body felt weak. Felix pulled his ponytail out with his free hand, and the locks fell loosely, a dark halo around his face, and his eyes were molten amber, his jaw sharp and smug, and he was so fucking HOT!

“I need to make it clear you are mine," he said in a low voice. Sylvain whimpered as Felix dragged his lips down Sylvain’s neck, teeth scratching the delicate skin. Felix kissed, and then bit and sucked hard on a tender spot near his collarbone, clearly marking him, and Sylvain couldn’t help the desperate moan that escaped his lips, or the bucking of his hips. OH Goddess. Felix brought his hands lower, rubbing along his chest and legs, heavily muscled but shaking weakly now. His lips and tongue teased a path down Sylvain's stomach and he whispered, “You belong to me." Sylvain could not agree more.

_\--POV: Claude von Riegan--_

Claude grinned when he saw the happy couple sitting together at breakfast in the dining hall. Felix was looking handsome and aloof as always, and Sylvain was smiling ear to ear. Aww, they were so cute, just like two little lovebirds, holding hands and blushing! Claude felt a little proud of himself, after all, he had helped them get together in a roundabout way, right?

He grabbed a plate of food and sauntered over. He was going to give them his heartfelt congratulations, and maybe just a tiny bit of teasing. It had been a long road, but it all worked out in the end. “Hey there,” he started with his usual easy smile. Felix glanced up at him and suddenly freaking **vaulted** over the table, snarling and growling. He was reaching for his sword!!

Claude stumbled backwards, threw his plate into the air, made a high pitched shrieking "_eeeeeuugghhhhkkkkk_" that sounded like it came from a little girl, and fled for his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's all I had planned y'all! Thank you so much for reading this whole crazy thing. I might write another chapter about after the war stuff but I kind of like this ending lol. Let me know if you want to see more!
> 
> This is my first fic ever and I'm super thankful for everyone's views and kudos and comments!!! Thank you guys so much, hope you enjoyed it. I had a great time writing it :)


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to add a final chapter, just kind of wrapping everything up.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

_Sylvain sat on a blanket under the old willow tree in the Fraldarius estate; the same tree they had often frolicked under as children. Felix was in the field below, play-fighting with two children: a boy with a shock of spiked red hair and a girl with long black pig-tails. They were teamed up trying to defeat Felix, their small wooden swords clattering ineffectively against his. The sound of laughter filled the air as Felix nimbly danced around them._

_Felix looked up at him and his mouth opened to speak. His lips moved silently and Sylvain leaned closer to hear. There was something slowly dripping out between his lips, red and sticky. Sylvain tried to stand to get closer, but his body was heavy, as if he was under water. Sylvain could only watch Felix in horror - the slow dribble from his mouth was faster now, gushing, and the old wound on his chest had burst open. Felix fell backwards, he was falling, falling; Sylvain couldn't reach him, the distance between them grew further and further. The sky was dark and Felix was so far and faint - his hand grasped in vain as Felix's shadow vanished into mist._

Sylvain awoke with a start and frantically moved his arm to feel the comforting body of Felix next to him. Felix wasn't there and for one terrible, disorienting moment, Sylvain thought: _this has all been a dream, Felix is still dead!_ His breath caught in his throat and there was a painful clanging in his chest and head. But then he saw Felix’s overcoat and bed clothes crumpled on the floor. Sylvain let out a shaky gasp and covered his face, heart pounding. He couldn't help but wonder... was this panic what Felix felt every time he awoke in the night? It was horrible.

It wasn't often Sylvain had nightmares - sleeping cuddled next to Felix seemed to prove a potent antidote. But this particular nightmare had been plaguing him recently. The reason was obvious enough when given thought. The last few weeks had been busy with preparation for what would hopefully prove to be the final battle. They were camped outside Enbarr and Byleth had plans to attack later today. Either they would die together or they would finally win this awful war. The only future that mattered right now was surviving this; neither had spoken of what might come after. There was only so much a person could face at one time before crumpling under the heavy weight. Still, Sylvain couldn't help but feel a tiny pit of worry in the bottom of his stomach, a small seed of doubt: _And then what?_

Felix poked his head in through the tent flap, and slid in. “Finally awake? I thought you might sleep through the battle,” he said with a smirk. He was carrying two trays filled with battle rations. He sat down cross-legged next to Sylvain, handing him one tray.

“Aww thanks Fe. You should have woken me!” Sylvain bit into the bread with a small grimace. It was hard and flavorless; he missed the kitchen at Garreg Mach.

Felix looked away. “Hmph. It’s fine. You looked… comfortable. Besides, I know I’ve disturbed your sleep often enough lately. You need as much rest as possible for today.”

“Oh you’ve disturbed my sleep, have you? Not all disturbances are bad you know,” he grinned wickedly, reaching out to rub Felix’s thigh.

Felix grumbled, but his cheeks were blushing. “You know that’s not what I meant.” His face turned serious then, and he gazed at Sylvain intently. “You need to be careful today, ok? If you die on me now… I’ll… I’ll kill you.”

Sylvain nodded solemnly. “Understood. I certainly wouldn’t want to get killed twice, that sounds very painful.” Felix punched him in the arm. “Ok, ok I will. You too alright? I can’t lose you.” He finished softly, “not again.” Sylvain grasped his hand, their fingers intertwining tightly, as he whispered a silent prayer: _Please Goddess, let us both survive this. Please._

_\--POV: Felix Fraldarius--_

The battle was more difficult than expected, and they had not been expecting it to be easy. Felix’s body ached - the power of his crest singing through his muscles repeatedly, relentlessly - and his mind buzzed heavily with the tingle of magic. He had already used his last thoron on an archer that had shot him through the left arm. He was favoring it now; it was not serious and Mercedes was busy healing others with more severe wounds.

Sylvain stood next to him, panting. He had dismounted, the quarters too tight for him to comfortably maneuver on horseback. The Lance of Ruin was dripping red and he held it low, with shaking arms, its tip almost touching the ground. Felix noted his chestpiece was dented in several places and there was a nasty gash on his cheek. They looked grimly at each other, and pressed forward.

Felix could see the Professor and Dimitri ahead in the throne room. Felix charged in, snapping his blade up and slashing through a warlock dressed in black and red robes. He felt the miasma spell sickly curl around him and he coughed, a painful, slippery feeling settling under his skin. He heard the clash of Sylvain's lance against armor right behind him as he looked onward to Dimitri. He expected the beastly visage, wreaking havoc in its wake. But there was only sadness and resignation on Dimitri’s face as he finally got his long-desired wish: the monster that was once Edelgard fell lifelessly at his feet.

Felix stumbled and relief washed over him. They had done it. It was finally over. He turned to Sylvain and they collapsed into each other’s arms.

******

The victory celebration was held back at Garreg Mach. There was a great feast (considering their limited supplies) with food and drink and dancing and laughter. Despite this, the atmosphere felt subtly subdued - muted with loss. Smiles were plentiful, yet there was not a single face without a shadow of grief, a passing flicker of sadness and pain. No one escaped war unscathed. Friends killed, classmates gone forever, families torn asunder.

Felix sat next to Sylvain, their shoulders touching, and listened to the others chat lightly about the future. Dimitri had proposed to Byleth; their wedding would be held shortly after his coronation. That was news to Felix - he hadn’t even realized they were in a relationship. It seemed he was the only one left unaware though, as the news was met with knowing nods and smiles.

Ingrid was naturally going to become a knight in Fhirdiad, a surprise to absolutely no one at all. Ashe beamed as he announced his plans to do the same. Annette and Mercedes were staying at Garreg Mach for now, with hopes to rebuild the monastery and school.

Then faces turned to Sylvain; Felix felt him stiffen slightly beside him. Felix stared at the plate in front of him, frozen, waiting for Sylvain's words. The topic had conspicuously not been broached by either of them. Saying "let's stay together until we die" was one thing, but actually doing it… the possibilities seemed endless and completely impossible at the same time. 

Sylvain finally said "You know me, haven't thought that far ahead,” with a nonchalant wave of his hand. A few people chuckled, and blissfully they skipped over Felix; no one would dare ask him what he planned. Felix knew that they thought of him as damaged, they were always so damned careful around him. Normally it frustrated him no end, but he was a bit thankful at the moment.

When he looked up, he saw Claude watching him, his head tilted slightly. Felix glared at him for a moment and then turned to Sylvain. He was wearing that awful phoney mask that Felix despised, hiding whatever difficult feelings he was trying to process. Smiling, winking, making dumb jokes and being fake, fake, fake. Felix could taste bile in his throat. He stood and walked to the drink station to get another drink. A stronger drink.

A familiar voice that grated on his nerves came from behind him. “Uh Felix, can you not kill me for a minute?” Claude asked.

Felix sighed, and gulped down his drink. Sylvain had explained how Claude had helped him, although Felix still wanted to stab him in the throat. He turned and Claude was standing facing him with his palms out, looking as though he might sprint off at any moment. “Fine,” Felix said. He took a deep breath. “Claude, listen. I won’t say this twice. I may have… acted rashly before. Sorry. And thanks. For… helping Sylvain.”

Claude’s eyes suddenly twinkled and he laughed, stepping closer and patting Felix on the arm. “Hey buddy, no problem, no hard feelings.”

“Ugh, don’t touch me. And I’m not your buddy,” Felix grumbled, pulling his arm free and looking away.

“Right, right. So, you and Sylvain, huh? I hope you invite me to the wedding.” Claude leaned onto the makeshift bar, sipping his own drink, and peering at Felix out of the corner of his eye.

“Wedding?” the word popped out before his thoughts could catch up to his mouth.

Claude ran his fingertip along the outside rim of his glass idly. “Are you not getting married then? I just figured since you're both up-and-coming heads of noble houses. Or perhaps you just plan on going your separate ways?” Claude swallowed down the last of his drink.

Felix’s hands clenched into fists. He didn’t want to discuss this with *Claude* of all people. “Tch,” was all he said. Claude barked a little laugh, and Felix noticed that his cheeks were faintly red. Startled, Felix asked, "Are you drunk?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Would it be the end of the world if I was? I’m leaving in two days for Almyra. Who knows what I’ll find when I get there." Claude sighed and leaned back. "This war may be over, but it's hardly the end of our struggles, you know. I’m ready, I’ll face whatever future comes. Can you say the same? After all of this….” Claude twisted his lips into a little smile, “Goddess, if I had what you two have, I’d never let it go.”

Felix's voice was low and sharp. "Don’t speak like you know what I feel, or what I plan on doing.”

“Right. I wouldn’t know, forgive me. Hah, although from all appearances I guess Sylvain doesn’t either,” Claude snickered and stood up to leave. "As long as you DO have a plan, I guess it's fine. Good luck."

Felix sighed. He hated this. He hated this man.

“I’ll be waiting for my wedding invitation with bated breath.” Claude slapped Felix on the back and sauntered off, as Felix flinched in displeasure at the unwelcome touch.

_\--POV: Sylvain Gautier--_

There was a messenger waiting for them outside Felix's room that evening. "Urgent message for Duke Fraldarius!" the man said, bowing and holding the letter out before him.

"I'm not the Duke yet," Felix snapped as he ripped the letter from the man's hands. The man was falling over himself with apologies as Felix shooed him off.

"You're so charming," Sylvain winked at Felix. Felix rolled his eyes at him. Sylvain peered down at the letter in his hands, and felt that awful ball of worry in stomach again. He tried to make his voice light and airy, unconcerned. "Well, are you going to read it?"

Felix shrugged and scanned it quickly, his face expressionless. "Oh," was all he said as he handed it to Slyvain. Felix's Uncle, the acting Duke, was ill and was requesting Felix return to take over the household.

Felix sat at the desk and Slyvain sat on the bed staring at the letter in his hands. He was trying to stay calm, but he could see his own hands shaking, ever so slightly, betraying him. “Fe, I…" he trailed off. How does one talk about something like this, something so big? Their future together? Scenarios and possible conversations were drifting through his mind, but none had the conclusion he wanted. Sylvain usually loved puzzles and games, but this problem seemed to have no solution. "At dinner….I didn't know what to say. And now..." He held up the letter. "What are you going to do?"

Felix looked up at him and there was a fragile tenderness in the way he held his head, his eyes soft. "What do you want me to do?" he whispered.

"Stay with me," Sylvain responded immediately, and then he bit his lip.

Felix nodded and gave him a small smile. "Sounds good to me. I sense that there's a 'but' though."

"But… well you know the 'but'. You and I are both heirs. Both house leaders and crest bearers. There will be no children. Together, our houses are doomed." Sylvain stopped. He could feel his eyes brimming with tears. If he blinked, they would fall and the moment would shatter. He did not blink. “We… we have responsibilities.”

"Sorry Sylvie. I guess I’m not as generous and virtuous as you." Felix stood and took the letter from Sylvain's hands, crumpled it into a ball and threw it away. "Faerghus has already taken so much from me. It's enough now isn't it? All that my family… All that we have sacrificed? Isn't it enough?". Felix tilted Sylvain's chin up with a graceful finger, and he felt a traitorous tear roll down his cheek. "Must I sacrifice my heart, my soul as well?"

Sylvain held his breath, expecting Felix to continue, but he said nothing more. "Our people…." Sylvain whispered.

Felix interrupted then, his face growing angry. "Oh? I thought the Boar was enough to show you what kind of leader a broken man is. Does he inspire confidence? Loyalty? I wonder how long a man can live with no heart."

Sylvain grasped Felix's hand. "I can't see the path forward. I…. I can’t live without you. Don't leave me."

Felix looked thunderstruck. "Me, leave you? I'm not the one blabbering about our people. I'm talking about you, you fool. I won’t let my people starve, but I’m not going to give them all that I am, my entire being, either. You're the one that apparently wants to become Margrave and get married and have little crest babies 'for our people'. Do it, go ahead. Destroy yourself for the Boar and this Kingdom. Do it in the name of your beloved house and people. I've already been through hell, what's another visit?” Sylvain gasped at the words, hurt spiking through him. “At least I will have the respite of being near you. Seeing your face. Because I won't ever leave your side, never again. You had better pick a forgiving wife, she's going to get sick of my presence very quickly." Felix's arms were crossed on his chest, and his chin was jutted out sharply. Sylvain could see his eyes were stormy with anger, love, and fear.

Sylvain pulled him close with a cry, crumpling him into a tight hug. Felix made it sound so simple, so clear. He couldn't walk the path he had always walked, but there were other paths. Better and brighter paths.

******

Dimitri and Byleth stared at them, and Dimitri's eye was twitching. "Pardon me, perhaps I misunderstood. Are you both seriously asking to leave your houses? Both of you, together?"

Sylvain and Felix were standing side by side, hand in hand. "I'd say it's more like telling than asking, but yes, you've got the right idea." Felix said, glaring at Dimitri, daring him to make a rebuttal.

Dimitri's fingers started tapping on the table in front of him and his shoulders were hunched forward. "Now? This is most inconvenient. Can't you, I don't know, wait a few years?"

"Sure, as long as you're willing to wait a few years to marry the Professor." Sylvain said smugly.

Dimitri groaned and leaned forward, resting his forehead in one hand while his other continued to tap. "Why don't you both just join your Houses together? I would be fully supportive of that. I really don't want to lose you two. You’re my oldest and closest friends and there is no one I trust or rely on more."

“I'm your closest friend? That’s pathetic,” Felix scoffed.

Sylvain frowned, he really hated to leave Dimitri in a bad position. He felt Felix squeeze his hand. "We could join Houses, but in case you were uninformed in the matter, men alone cannot make an heir. The House would fall. If you need some lessons in how that all works, I’d be happy to fill you in." Sylvain grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.

Dimitri’s cheeks blushed, “I’m well aware of how it works!” he said, his voice a little higher than normal.

Byleth suddenly spoke up, her voice soft and monotonous. "My apologies, I'm not well versed in Kingdom traditions. But couldn't you just pick your own heir? Pass your name onto someone you deem worthy?" All three men stared at her, mouths agape. "I mean it seems pretty obvious to me." she finished.

Dimitri shook his head, "Such a thing is not allowed. A system like that would be an attack against the noble traditions of old.”

Sylvain spoke slowly, turning the words over in his mind, "Allowing a family to choose an heir based on their worthiness instead of name or crest… would that be such a bad thing?" Sylvain watched Dimitri’s face carefully. There was no anger, only a thoughtful look. Was he actually considering this?

"Laws can be changed. You are the King after all, aren't you?" Felix asked. Sylvain noted he was looking right at Dimitri, a strange look on his face. Was that hope?

Dimitri stood then. “Indeed, I am. And what kind of King would I be if I cannot accept the solution to a problem when it stares me right in the face? Two of my best friends, that have loyally helped me through the deepest darkness, stand before me finally having found happiness. Who am I to stand in the way? I assume such an arrangement is acceptable to you two?"

Sylvain looked at Felix and the genuine smile on his face made his heart pound with love. "It is."

“So be it then. Congratulations House Gau….darius?” Dimitri stumbled.

Sylvain chuckled. “How about just Gautier-Fraldarius?”

Felix kicked him in the shin. “Fraldarius-Gautier, obviously.”

****

They lay in bed together that night, Sylvain's arms wrapped snugly around Felix. Usually their love-making was frantic, hungry, and desperate, as though at any moment they would be forcefully wrenched from each other. But tonight it had been gentle and tender. “That was divine, Mr. Fraldarius-Gautier,” Sylvain teased softly. Felix blushed and turned his head into Sylvain’s chest, his dark locks spilling across Sylvain’s arm. Sylvain brushed his fingers through it gently, it was like brushing the softest silk. “When do you want to get married?” he asked suddenly, pulling Felix up so he could look into his eyes.

“Whenever you want. As soon as possible,” Felix said, his amber eyes simmering warmly. Sylvain stared at him with awe. He was so damned beautiful. They had the rest of their lives together. How could he be so lucky? Felix suddenly groaned and closed his eyes. “Ughhh, we’re going to have to send Claude an invitation, aren’t we?”

Sylvain laughed and kissed him.


End file.
